Chapter Text

Prologue

"Have you ever felt called by the wind?"

༄༄࿐

Eren

      I often dreamt of flight.

      These dreams tended to exist outside of the world I knew—or, perhaps, they were a twisted version of it. The wind was always a feathery touch against my skin, curling around me in a gentle embrace, yet, I carried it with me as though it belonged to me.

      When I soared through the sky, nothing else mattered—no other plains of reality existed. I carried myself and the ability to defy gravity, the strongest force in our world, the very thing that kept us rooted to the ground we trampled on.

      As the wind carried me, I danced with the sky. The sun-split clouds cast a broken glimmer on my skin, dotting me with spots of heat against the crisp air. My wings were invisible, yet stronger than life, helping me climb the sun with weightless bones.

      And yet, I still ached for more. I still longed to breach the the sky above and discover what lay ahead.

      Every time, I found myself falling. How naïve I was to assume the curling grip of mortality would never find me and remind me of my limitations, of my childish notions of superiority. How cruel it was that I can't ascend from the earth in an everlasting flight when my dreams desperately clawed at so.

      Onto the ground I would bleed, unable to take off again. This time I was trapped, the power of flight escaping me, nonexistent. I knew now; I never owned the air. The air owned me, and when it viewed me with purpose no longer, it let me sink into a crumbling heap, fear weaving itself into the new grip that tightly held me.

      "Until next time," I would say to the clouds that now ceased to part for my chained wings.

༄༄࿐

      The sound of the golden knob twisting to open my bedroom door echoed through my silent bedroom. My mom's footsteps drawing closer from the hallway was all I heard from the warm comfort of my bed.

      When she neared the door, it creaked open before her hand could touch the cold wood, and she hesitated.

      I knew she didn't like it when I did that, but that was probably the reason I did.

      After a moment of tension, she pushed the door open further, and tentatively stepped inside. After eyeing the doorknob for a moment, she lifted her head to look at the blanketed heap that I was. "Eren? Are you getting ready for school?" When I lifted my groggy eyes to meet hers, she averted her gaze to the wall.

      "I'm about to. Five more minutes," I groaned the cliché, which in every sense of the word felt necessary, pulling my comforter further over my body and snuggling deeper into my pillows.

      She sighed. "Come on; you're not going to be late again. I've been lenient with you lately, but with the end of the semester coming up, you need to be on top of things." I grumbled a sound of complaint, knowing I wouldn't hear the end of it if I didn't get myself up. Her whining sounded more torturous than the idea of getting out of bed right now.

      "Alright, alright. I'm coming." I sat up with a groan. The comforter slid down my chest to pool at my hips, and my nest of hair fell over my shoulders. She practically flinched when I pulled one of the shelves of my dresser open from across the room, and I rolled my eyes as I lifted a plain white T-shirt from the drawer and pulled it to where I sat without having to move.

      "You should be conserving your energy for school. You've had trouble focusing more than usual lately. You're taking your medication, right?" I couldn't miss the warning tone she'd laced her words in, as if she wasn't always there to ensure that I took my meds every morning.

      After pulling my shirt on, I swung the covers off my body—which was otherwise clad in sweatpants—and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Obviously. But this kind of thing is nothing." I gestured to my open dresser. "I'm fine. There's just so much going on all the fucking time, I—" I shut my lips, preventing myself from venting. She didn't want to hear it.

      "Language," she muttered, and I rolled my eyes again. She sighed, tilting her head. There was a pause where we simply let the tense air hang. "Your Concerta prescription is running low; I'll have to stop by the pharmacy today."

      I merely nodded, wedging my bottom lip thoughtfully between my teeth as I manually bent down and pulled my pants drawer open. "Is dad still trying to pick me up from school?" I asked, watching her lean against the doorway in my peripheral.

      She pursed her lips momentarly "Yes. Do you work today?" she asked.

      "No, I’vd been trying to work a bit less on school days, why?" I rubbed at my tired eyes, letting my black jeans hang over my arm as I leaned my weight on one hip.

      She hesitated. "He... wants to bring you to the clinic again."

      I lifted my eyes to gawk at her, watching her quickly drop her head. "Um, yeah, no. I'm honestly surprised he sent you to try to convince me this time." I said with a humorless chuckle. She sighed, tilting her head back—she had expected my response, as it wasn't anything new.

      "Come on, Eren. Give it a chance. You haven't been there since you were, what fifteen? So much has changed, you know that," she insisted.

      I scoffed. "Yeah, I'm sure it has," I mumbled sarcastically. "I know he just wants to turn me into some lab-rat. He's not subtle." I couldn't deny how bitter my tone sounded—but I had every right to feel that way after what he'd put me through last time.

      However, mom seemed to feel differently, as her expression hardened. "Hey. Don't say that about your father," she said in a stern, distempered tone. I sighed, turning my head away and biting my tongue on what I wanted to bite back with. She sensed my begrudging retreat and sighed, backing off. "He just wants you to be apart of what he's passionate about. He may even be able to help you in the future—" I opened my mouth to retort, but she quickly rushed to continue. "—If you just let him run a couple of tests one day. That's the extent of anything he's interested in doing with you," she said sincerely.

      I tensed with a frustrated huff, arms dropping by my side with my shirt and pants in hand. "Isn't the constant medication enough? I don't need to feel any more like a freak than I already am," I drawled. In the corner of my eye, she straightened her posture. It took her a moment of consideration—a moment far too long—before she took soft steps forward and placed a delicate hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off, and she sighed, stepping back.

      "Just let him show you around; that's all he wants to do this time around." She didn't deny it.

      I held my ground, my gaze icy as it bored unto her disconnected eyes. "No."

      She tensed. If a response was hanging on the edge of her tongue, she chose to bite it back, as she soon turned her toward the door and began to leave.

      "Get ready," she reminded me once she was at the door, her tone firm, before quietly heading down the hall.

༄༄࿐

      I trudged downstairs around fifteen minutes later. Breakfast was ready at the kitchen island, and the enticing smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the air. My dad sat at one end of it, newspaper in hand, while mom was scrubbing vigorously at a soapy pan in the sink.

      Our kitchen was one of the selling points of the house, if you had asked my mom. With a dark marble island in the center large enough to accommodate the three of us when sitting, it was the perfect area to utilize while ignoring the fact that our dining room was far too big to use on a daily basis. Identical marble counters wrapped around two sides of the room, the walls painted a soft beige, while white, fluorescent lights were dotted throughout the ceiling. They did a good job at making the room feel just a bit too bright.

      "Morning," I grumbled, and my dad placed his mug of creamed coffee on the marble surface after taking a long sip.

      "Morning, Eren," he greeted in his usual authoritarian tone, one far too enthusiastic to use this early. I sighed as I plopped onto my stool.

      My dad was the CEO and Head Doctor of what should have only been described as a psych ward—though if you asked them, it was more-or-less a 'clinic.'

      Separated into two main facilities—one for the psychologically ill, and one for the physically ill, it was a healthy little mesh pot of fucked-up. If a patient suffered from both, they would be transferred accordingly. It was a successful duo-hospital, one of the only in the state that specialized in both psychology and biology, and my dad was the egotistical smart-ass who had pulled off the brilliant idea twenty-three years ago.

      I used to regularly visit the clinic as a child—it was where I got my yearly checkups, vaccines, and blood work done. However, as I got older, the more invasive he wanted to take his measures, and the more aware I became. The very last time I had joined him at work when I was fifteen, I had become repulsed by the entire ordeal. It was no doubt my dad went the extra mile to enforce confidentiality and success, even at his patients' demise. 

      There were some inpatients that had resided there for over ten years, still gradually recovering from mental disability despite undergoing countless hours of daily psychiatry and talk-therapy. There were some patients who'd gone through accidents or trauma that had revoked their very way of living, succumbed to hopeless heaps of being that simply existed. The ward was their home, and they were okay with that. It was disgusting.

      Some patients were in and out, whether they were well-enough to attend outpatient therapy or simply underwent an injury that swiftly recovered. According to many, my father was a legend—a doctor who could achieve anything he set his mind to. But I saw through his prideful facade.

      The other doctors and nurses that worked under him were admittedly kind, from what I had gathered growing up. They all looked up to my father, and by the ripe age of fifteen, I was viewed as a 'mini him' who would succeed in the very same way he had, if nurtured enough.

      I still practically laughed at the thought.

      I caught my mom eyeing me in my peripheral. She no doubt filled him in on my strict reservations to joining him at the clinic today. I despised the way my dad ignored the humongous elephant in the room—the real reason he continued to ask to take me there.

      Though my parents actively expressed how resentful they were of my abilities—mom in particular—it was no secret that my dad was sickeningly intrigued by them.

      I would catch him on occasion—his subtle interest when I would shoot the TV remote across the room and into my hand, only to be scolded by my mother for being lazy, his silence when she would reprimand me for overusing my powers, a noticeable glint in his eyes that mirrored my own.

      When it came down to it, he was actively against regular use of them. But after the day at the clinic four years ago when he revealed his true motives, I never viewed him the same way.

      "Eren, I think I may be able to discover a way for you to develop further control over your abilities. All you'll need to do is stay here for a few days while I run some tests on you. How does that sound?"

      Why had he asked me so casually?

      "What? Are you insane, dad? I'm not going to be tested on—why would you even ask me that? I don't have any problem controlling my powers, anyway."

      Most of the time.

      Deep down I had known for a while that he wanted to run tests on me for his own twisted agenda, but that day he had confirmed my suspicions. He wanted to get to the bottom of why I was different—something he had never achieved. No matter how much they both tried to insist on his objective being innocent, I saw right through it.

      And I would never let him get his way. I’m just fine remaining an anomaly without answers, thanks.

      "Alright, Eren, finish up. We better get going." My mom was busy drying her hands before she popped a piece of toast into her mouth. She never ate a meal for breakfast; she only cooked for my dad and me and sipped on her own single cup of green tea. It was our routine—a routine I was beginning to despise a little bit more each day, but it was the only sense of normalcy I had in this house.

      "Put your hair up; it's going to be a complete mess by the end of the day if you leave it down. You looked grungy yesterday." She handed me a black hair-tie, which she miraculously seemed to have conjured out of thin air, as always.

      "But I like it down," I mumbled to myself, despite gathering my shoulder-length hair and beginning to pull it back behind my head.

      "Good luck at work, sweetie," she wished my dad before handing me my backpack, then grabbing her keys and purse from the hooks on the wall.

      "Did you take your medication?" she asked me when I slung my dark green backpack over my shoulder. I grabbed the three bottles from the counter and wiggled them in front of her, the Concerta noticeably emptier, and she watched as I popped each tablet into my mouth, taking one last gulp of my orange juice to swallow them down.

      She scoffed. "Not all at once, Eren, you're going to choke that way," she scolded. I shrugged as we began heading toward the front door.

      "Bye, Eren. See you after school," I heard my dad call out behind me. I turned my head to glance at him, and despite the pleasantly spoken send-off, he refused to make eye contact with me.

      "Yeah," I dryly replied, and my mom nudged me on the shoulder with a scolding look at my chin—as if it was the culprit—as she opened the door. 

      When we both stepped out, I tucked my hands tucked into my pockets as the brisk early November air nipped at my skin. I did a once-over around the block and quickly noted we were the only one's outside. Mom turned around toward the door with her key in hand, but before she could grab onto the doorknob, I looked at the door and shut it Telekinetically.

      I watched as she jerked and looked over her shoulder at the neighboring houses, eyes wide and frantic, then grew relieved when she saw no one. She turned to my chest with a glare that screamed 'what the fuck is wrong with you.' I sent her a casual shrug, and she shook her head with a frustrated sigh as she locked the door.

      She nervously looked around as we headed for the car, and she glanced at the small smile I attempted to conceal with a purse of my lips once we shut the doors. "That wasn't funny, Eren. It was completely uncalled for," she said stiffly. I leaned back against the seat's headrest and glanced through the window, watching as the waning mist of early morning gradually wove away.

      "Gotta practice somehow, right?" I joked. I turned to her to see her eyebrows pinch together, a deep furrow creasing her forehead. "You shouldn't be practicing that." The crude bluntness of her words, harsher than I'd expected, took me aback, and a slight frown replaced my previous smirk.

      I turned away again, resting my cheek on my hand. My breath clouded the chilled window as the engine rumbled to life, and I mindlessly lifted a finger to draw shapes through it.

      A heavy and debilitating silence accumulated in the car during the ten-minute drive Sina High, twisting around us like a thin thread around our throats. Neither of us said a word. But I was used to that with her.

      I couldn't remember the last time I felt comfortable around my parents. That feeling had disappeared when the grim reality of my life gradually replaced my childish naïveté. Everything changed the moment we discovered my powers.

      I suppose abnormality was my normalcy.

      "Behave, please. I don't want any more phone calls from your teachers this week." My mom's voice cut through the air, as we pulled into the parking lot, scolding me as if I was a mere child back in elementary school and not a nineteen-year-old more than half a foot taller than her.

      "I will," I promised simply, yet with little sincerity behind it. 

      She lifted her hand, as if to place on my shoulder again. But she thought twice, dropping it on her lap with a cold sigh.

      "Please go easy on your father. He loves you. I love you." Her words had increasingly softened into something melancholy, yet when I turned to look at her, I watched her quickly avoid my gaze.

      Liar.

      "Okay," I mumbled before stepping out of the car, pulling my jacket tighter over my chest and scrunching my shoulders upon the chill that greeted my skin. The sound of the car rolling away filled the air a moment later.

      School was practically my lone playground. People met my eyes left and right, tempting me with the urge to infiltrate their minds.

      A group of girls lingered their gaze on me when I walked through the gate. One, in particular, I made eye-contact with—a quiet red-head named Nifa. I felt a soft, warm vibration wash over my skull along with a fluttering passion that didn't belong to me.

      'God, he's so hot! I can't wait for the winter dance this year; this could finally be my chance.'

      I let her familiar thoughts sink in. Nifa has had a crush on me since her second year of middle school, which made it four years of unrequited feelings. She was a junior in high school now, one year below me. To her, her feelings were her massive secret, only shared with her closest friends—who had since given up on her confessing to me once year after year passed of Nifa letting her shyness dictate her. To me, her feelings were a diary—an insight into how I was viewed through another, more passionate perspective.

      Sometimes I felt guilty, reminding myself almost every day how she felt when I looked her in the eyes and continuing to pretend I was oblivious. But in a way, it was comforting.

      But I didn't stick around in her head for too long. I still had some level of class.

      I made eye contact with Nifa's best friend, Rico, whose lips curved into a subtle frown. Something told me she was carrying that expression subconsciously. First a familiar warmth, then a firm bitterness, and,

      'He's such a loner; I wish she weren't so hung up over someone like that.'

      That's because she'd rather Nifa was hung up over her, instead.

      When one was as lonely as I was, other people's problems became a form of solace—or entertainment, depending on the person.

      The deepest of secrets, the biggest of flaws, the worst things about a person, were at the whim of my will. After the simple insertion into someone's mind once eye contact was made, nothing was hidden. That kind of power was terrifying to most; that kind of power was what I had been cursed with.

      It created an unhealthy temptation within me as I got older, as I grew to understand the world and the complexities of the human race. The voice in the back of my mind constantly egged me on like a mocking devil on my shoulder, encouraging me rip off someone's external mask by breaching them internally.

      Granted, prolonged eye-contact wasn't the easiest thing to come by, especially as anxiety disorders and autism were on the rise while we continued to plunge ourselves into an inevitable doom. But it took only a split second for me to insert myself into someone's mind, and once I did, I had free reign. A train of thought tended to last a second or two longer once eyes were torn away from mine before fading into a private realm once more, though if someone tended to constantly look away for a fleeting moment and then back at me during a conversation, it was easy enough to string along coherent thoughts.

      I had learned about the darkest of secrets, most unsuspecting truths, simply by reading a person's mind. Once upon a time I thought I could have used that to do some form of good in this world. Growing up, I was really into investigative law and true crime. I even wanted to become a detective. But that dream was crushed a long time ago, a distant future by now.

      I couldn’t make a difference without any power in law enforcement. If there wasn't any proof behind these secrets, what was I going to tell the police? 'Oh, just trust me.'

      And lying about evidence could only land me in a puddle of shit myself.

      Moving things physically using the mind is one thing—I treated Telekinesis almost trivially, despite my mom constantly reprimanding me for how 'irresponsible' I could be with it.

      But entering somebody else's mind allowed me to twist their inner monolog into something vulnerable, writing it on a paper sheet and letting it lay in the palm of my hands. Telepathy was the power they really feared.

      I could vividly remember the last day my parents looked me in the eyes twelve years ago.

      But that was my life, and I had learned to live with it.

      Neither of them knew how I was born with these abilities; that fact established a new sense of fear within them on its own. My mom had sickeningly let my father run tests on her after my powers were discovered when I was three—my respect for her greatly dissipated after I found that out. His goal was to look for any potential 'mutations'—only for her results to return entirely regular. No abnormalities hinting toward the cause of a supernatural deformity in my brain or blood were found.

      It rubbed me the wrong way that my dad never tested his own DNA.

      While they contemplated with each other day-by-day how my existence was possible, and the fact that I took hold of their beliefs on what mortality meant and twisted them into something different, something wrong, I simply struggled to get by and lived with what I had been forcibly given.

      A locker shutting drew my attention, and I glanced over to see Yelena turn from it and walk down the hall. She was the school's main weed seller. I smoked for a brief period of time some months ago, mostly out of impulsivity, but quit due to a few different factors. It wasn't really a habit I wanted to keep.

      "Have you seen the new transfer student?" I overheard the excited chatter of a senior girl and her friend as I passed by their lockers. "Yeah, he's super cute. But he kinda gives me gay vibes. Is that mean?"

      I huffed a quiet laugh. Sometimes you didn't need to read someone's mind to hear their embarrassing thoughts; some people just outright admitted them aloud. I slowed my pace, piqued by the idea of a new transfer student—we hadn't had one of those in quite some time.

      "I mean, no," the first girl laughed. "Not really, I kind of see it. He's a senior, too, right?" I raised an eyebrow. A transfer student in my grade, huh? Three months after the start of the year, too? Odd. Senior year must have been hell to transfer in the midst of. What could have caused such a late change in schools?

      Whoever he was, and whatever the reason he showed up here was, I wished him luck in this ruthless city. He was going to need it.

      I resumed my leisurely walk to first period, letting the girls continue to gossip amongst themselves without me eavesdropping.

      First period rolled in as chatter-filled and messy as usual, students too tired to bother behaving, resorting to laying their heads on their desk or lazily congregating with their equally-as-tired friends instead.

      I trailed my eyes around the room as I walked toward my seat in the back of the class, catching glimpses of familiar faces. Everything was as it usually was—until I spotted a new face, one I hadn't seen before.

      I first noticed his onyx-black hair, as dark as a moonless night, trimmed and layered in a flattering undercut that framed his face. His skin was pale, dewy, and almost porcelain-like, though from here I could spot a few tiny freckles in various spots. He was adorned by thin and delicate features, but carried a sharp jawline that was accentuated by the way he leaned his cheek against his palm.

      He stared ahead at the rest of the classroom with a bored expression, people-watching with lidded eyes; which were a soft storm-gray that contrasted my own verdant green ones.

      He must be the transfer student.

      There was no other way around it—I'd never seen him before, and as antisocial as I was, I people-watched, too. As I sat down at my desk, I couldn't help but let my eyes linger on him, familiarizing myself with his appearance.

      He wore an oversized pale blue sweatshirt that made him appear small in his seat, and it was tucked loosely into street-styled cargo pants as black as his hair. A sparkling, thin silver chain dangled from the belt loops, a surprisingly flashy accent to his otherwise subdued appearance. Paired with the outfit were simple black combat boots with short block heels.

      Definitely gay vibes.

      I almost chuckled upon remembering the comment the girls made at their locker, biting my lip on a small smirk. He finally seemed to notice my staring and turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow, eyeing the obvious curl of my lips before looking me in the eyes.

      Instantaneously, it seemed, the voice in the back of my head awoke in a crazed frenzy. Read his mind. Read his mind.

      No.

      You know you want to. You have the power.

      I don't even know him.

      Even better. Get to know him better than anyone.

      Not yet.

      "Take a picture, it'll last longer." I was snapped out of my mental-battle by a sudden, deep, and abrasive voice. Focusing again, I noticed the new boy was now curiously eyeing me up and down.

      Impulse gripped me. Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone from my back pocket, opened the camera and snapped a photo with his frame in the center. I quickly watched his expression grow appalled. "Hey—what the hell? People don't usually take that literally," he snapped with a glare.

      I couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, and he looked at me as if he had caught the attention of an insane person.

      "Delete it," he demanded, his tone cold and biting. I could tell he was itching to jump out of his seat and close the distance between us as he eyed my phone with fidgeting fists. I clicked on the photo in my gallery—it was a clear and crisp capture of his curious expression toward me, his cheek still resting on his hand, and his long blue sleeve only allowing his fingers to peak out against his pale skin.

      "I don't think I will," I said simply, locking my phone and tucking it back in my pocket as I shifted to a more comfortable position in my seat.

      He gawked at me. "Are you always this brazen?" he asked, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms over his chest. The action beneath his oversized sweater made him appear adorably child-like.

      "Depends on who you ask," I said inconclusively. He stared at me with a deadpan expression. A few more seconds of silence passed between us as other students began to settle, before he rolled his eyes and turned back to face the front of the class without another word.

      I continued to stare at him, thinking over the interaction we'd had, before he was suddenly blocked from my view when two students took their seats at the desks that separated us. I almost itched to see his expression once more, though I refrained, facing forward with a bitten-back smirk.

      This new guy might just be interesting after all.

Chapter Text

Flames

༄༄࿐

      Crash.

      I jolted awake, my heart slamming against my ribcage as I was yanked from unconsciousness. I rapidly trailed my eyes around the room, the sound of a grating boom a faint echo in my aching head.

    I gripped my hair to cope with the throbbing pain, muddled with confusion and a post-sleep daze. What the fuck was that?

      Frantic footsteps sounded from down the hall outside my bedroom, growing loud with voices of hushed panic before they became distant again. I threw my door open from where I sat on my bed, catching fleeting shadows cast by the moonlight that beamed through the windows. "Mom? Dad?" I shouted, only to be met with no response.

      Releasing a frustrated huff, I threw the covers off of me. Tossing my legs over the side of the bed, I stood up and shuffled out of my room.

      It was the flickering orange glow that climbed up the wall of the staircase, too vibrant in the darkness that surrounded it to be normal, that truly jump-started my heart. I gasped in realization, rushing down the hall and down the stairs. The glow became brighter as I neared the kitchen, and my parents' panic-stricken voices echoed off the walls.

      When I rounded the corner, I came face-to-face with a raging fire. It burst from the stove, curling up in roaring flames until it brushed the steel hood above. It was almost blinding, the bright glow bouncing a cluster of oranges, reds, and yellows across the room. I took a step back, my eyes blown wide with shock. My mom was yelling at my dad in the corner of the room, her voice almost unintelligible beneath the violent crackling the fire screamed with.

      My dad was beating at it with a large towel, though the ball of flames appeared bigger than the cloth itself. He was grunting with each smack yet doing little to dwindle the growing destruction. "Dad!" I called in alarm, and he quickly turned his head to glance at my chin. The warm glow flickered against one side of his face, creating an eerie, contrasting shadow within the otherwise midnight blackness of the room.

      "Eren! The fire extinguisher is in the garage! Hurry!" he yelled before turning back to the fire. But I only stared at him, horror-stricken. The flames were quickly growing bigger. To leave the house, run across the driveway, open the garage door, and grab the fire extinguisher would have allowed too much time for the damage to spread. The process itself would have risked the kitchen becoming engulfed by flames by the time I returned, the entire house being next.

      I took a step forward, staring at the fire. Impulse gripped me, and a frantic, compulsory risk overtook my rationale. "Eren, what are you doing?!" my mom shouted. I took another step forward, and I could feel the intensity behind my wide eyes heighten as I focused on the flames.

      I was immediately met by the fire's roaring protest. My parents' desperate yells became distant echoes within the room. A dull vibration sprouted from the back of my skull and washed over the surface beneath my skin. I felt my muscles throb, twitching as I begun to take control of the fire. With every destructive second that passed, the tall flames slowly began to shorten. I used the promising sight to push myself harder, to tighten my grip on the unforgiving power. Everything else around me began to dissipate into a heady blur until only the fire and myself remained.

      Each and every bone in my body grew rigid, my joints locking up. I felt my eyes bulge and my body tremble as the fire steadily grew smaller. I barely noticed my father take multiple steps back until he disappeared behind my darkening peripheral. Any sounds that existed around me met a different reality. All I could feel was my own trembling body, pushing my limits to their greatest extent.

      When the final flame dwindled into a meek spark that vanished in the air, everything seemed to resurface all at once. I gasped, the sound brutal and loud as my entire body heaved and jerked. "Eren!" my mom cried, and I felt myself stumble back until I desperately clutched the kitchen doorframe. My breathing was heavy and ragged, and it took several seconds for my vision to refocus on the now quiet, dark room. Everything was blanketed in an unnaturally grim blackness.

      My father flicked the light on, and I squinted with a pained hiss from the sudden harsh brightness.

      A tense silence enveloped the room. My mom didn't move; she only stared at the floor with a distant, contemplative expression. My father grabbed thick gloves from the cabinet and immediately began to clear the stove, moving the now charred kettle and disconnecting the grates. "Let it cool down first, Grisha!" Mom hissed upon noticing, her voice a sharp knife that tore through the thick air.

      "I'm wearing gloves," he responded calmly, his voice deep and assured. She sighed, her shoulders sagging with defeat.

      I stood there, waiting for anything—a word of acknowledgment, an ounce of gratitude, even eyes that spoke of relief. However, my hope for either gradually dissipated, and a painful realization replaced it when the two fell into silence once more.

      It returned with a meek spark when my mom begun to walk in my direction. However, when she met my side, she only eyed my chest, a deep, tight frown curling her lips. She walked past me and out of the kitchen without a word. I merely stood there, stunned as her footsteps began climbing up the stairs.

      Once they faded into silence, I glared at my dad with a scoff. "Are you fucking serious? Did you see that?" I asked in disbelief, throwing a hand toward the doorway where she'd fled.

      He sighed, removing his gloves before tossing them on the counter. He lingered his gaze on the damage for a moment longer before moving his green eyes to where I stood.

      He took slow steps forward, and my head moved the slightest bit higher as he grew closer. Even though he was about an inch taller than me, I still felt greater in his presence. Powerful. Adrenaline was still coursing through my veins. But while I intensely kept my eyes locked with his, his remained downcast and impersonal, lingering on my chest before gliding over my neck.

      "You know... fire isn't a physical thing one can move. It has a mind of its own, and that's what makes it so dangerous, so feared. Yet... you overpowered it," he said slowly. My gaze was alight, my jaw taut despite his affirming words.

      He raised his hand until it hovered above my shoulder. He hesitated before reluctantly patting it. The gesture was firm and cold. "Get some sleep."

      Those were his final words before he returned to the blackened stove, an exhausted breath leaving his lips as he planted his hands against the edge of the oven door and dropped his head.

      My expression pinched with defeated frustration, and I turned and stomped out of the kitchen. I clenched my fists at my sides, glaring at the various stacks of mail atop the table behind the living room couch as I passed them. The envelopes crumpled beneath my vehement stare, but I couldn't find the will to care.

      Anger rushed through me as I climbed the stairs and made a beeline for my bedroom. I didn't hesitate to slam the door behind me, the boom echoing through the house before I collapsed onto my bed, and the distant, though familiar yelling of my mother's repellent voice was a muffled echo through the walls.

༄༄࿐

      A firm tension blanketed the air the following morning. The blackened stove created a sore, pitiful sight in the kitchen as my father and I settled into our seats at the island.

      The three of us were tired; that much was obvious. My mom's eyes were dreary as she planted the milk jug on the counter before us. We were having cereal this morning.

      "It looks like there was a loose connection between the gas pipes, which caused the sudden fire." My dad broke the silence without lifting his head, his voice low. "Dear god, we better not have mice," my mother muttered in an irritable tone. I eyed them with a disbelieving stare.

      "A new stove is being installed today around noon, and they're going to check for any other damage. Keep an eye out, dear," dad continued as he kept his eyes glued to the newspaper in his hand. My mother only let out a short hum with a firm nod.

      "Oh, thank you for putting out that fire, Eren," I whispered under my breath in a mocking tone, and my mom snapped her head toward me. The warning look she attempted to give me had fallen flat, as her eyes could only meet my neck.

      "What was that?" she tested, and I dramatically shrugged my shoulders, shoving a spoonful of cheerios into my mouth. Dad shook his head with a rough sigh.

      We ate in silence. Mom didn't have any dishes to clean, so she sat at the table. I noticed she was drinking a mug of black coffee instead of her usual green tea.

      She stood up when it neared the time to leave, taking our abandoned milk-filled bowls from the table. Instead of voicing her usual question, she proceeded to firmly place my three orange bottles of medication on the counter in front of me with a silent, firm demand.

      Through a frown, I swallowed them one by one.

      "Let's go," she said curtly as she grabbed her purse and keys. "Are you going to the clinic today?" she added as she turned to my dad.

      He nodded his head. "Yes. A few new patients are being admitted, so I'll be present to greet them." I almost rolled my eyes. He'll be present to see if they're anything like me, I'm sure.

      His disappointment yesterday when he'd picked me up from school only to drop me off at home was evident, but he didn't push me any further on the matter.

      "Okay," she said simply before turning around and heading for the front door. I grabbed my backpack from the floor, slinging it over my shoulder. "Bye, Eren," my father called, but I didn't respond this time, and my mother didn't comment.

      When we left the house, she hesitated before shutting the front door, but when she realized I wasn't going to try anything, she sighed and locked it herself. I shoved my hands into my pockets as I walked straight to the car. It was an abnormally cold November day.

      When she settled into the driver's seat, she pushed the keys into the ignition, but didn't start the car. I stared at her in the corner of my eye and watched as she seemed to deeply contemplate something.

      She soon stretched her arm over the center console before rubbing my shoulder with her hand. Despite her gentle touch, all I felt was a bitter chill, and I cringed away. "Has anything exciting happened at school lately?" she asked, her soft voice sickeningly forced as she ignored my blatant retreat and dropped her hand.

      I couldn't help but laugh, and the sound was dry. I watched as her faint smile dropped. "Don't even bother," I spat.

      Her brows drew together. "Look, Eren; I'm trying–"

      "No, you're not!" I snapped.

      She was rendered into a stunned silence, so I continued. "Last night? What the hell was that?" I asked.

      Any inkling of her forced demeanor dropped, a cold expression overcoming her. "Unnecessary is what it was," she quickly said with a frown.

      I scoffed with a look of disbelief. "I put out a fire, mom! You didn't even say a word! At least dad had the decency to say something!" I tossed my hand into the air.

      "He asked you to grab the fire extinguisher! Would that have been so damn hard to do?!" she bit back.

      "Did you see how big it was getting? By the time I got back, the entire kitchen could have been in flames! How do you not get that what I did was a good thing?!" I shouted.

      "Because, Eren, nobody should have that kind of power! When will you realize that every time you do something like that, it reminds me that my son is NOT NORMAL!" Her voice cracked from how severely she had yelled.

      I stared at her as silence fell between us. My eyes were wide, and she still couldn't meet them as she started the car with a firm jerk of her hand, aggressively changing gears and pressing her foot down onto the gas pedal.      

      "Maybe I should've let the fucking house burn down," I mumbled impulsively, and she quickly slammed on the brakes and snapped her head to me. I grunted as I jerked forward.

      "Do I need to take you to see Dr. Clark?!" she shouted.

      I raised my hands to my hair, clutching at my scalp. "Oh my god, mom, I'm not actually going to burn the house down!"

      "Honestly, I wouldn't be–"

      "You're going to trigger an episode–stop—STOP!" I yelled, cutting her off.

      She immediately fell silent as her shoulders sagged, but her expression remained hardened as she began driving again without another word.

      We didn't speak for the rest of the car ride. When we reached the school, I roughly slung my backpack over my shoulder and opened the door without a word. She began to say something as I stepped out, but her voice cut off when I slammed the door shut.

      I didn't turn around to look back at the car. I simply kept walking. I felt a desolate ache swell in my chest, and I pursed my lips as I heard the car begin to roll away behind me.

      'My son is not normal.' She had never said the words aloud before. I always suspected that was how she truly felt—no matter how much she denied my verbal insecurity or insisted she loved me for who I was. She wasn't subtle about her distaste for the abnormality I never chose to have. And finally, it had come forward in a fueled ball of rage, without an inkling of hesitation.

      It didn't matter if she was going to apologize before I shut the door. She had already made her bed.

      I didn't look at Nifa once I walked through the doors, despite feeling her pleading stare boring into me. I merely shoved my hands into my pockets as I pulled myself through the halls.

      I could feel waves of intense anger radiating off of me, coursing through my veins. But I didn't care—I didn't have to maintain my composure for anybody anymore.

      I was the first person to walk into first period—Mr. Hannes hadn't even arrived yet. I lugged my backpack to my seat, throwing it beside my chair before sliding onto it with little care. I propped my elbow on the wooden desktop and planted my head onto the palm of my hand. My shoulder-length hair draped over my curled fingers, loose locks carelessly falling over my face, and I could already imagine the chaos it would ensue after gym.

      She hadn't told me to put it up.

      As the classroom clock ticked loud seconds by, students began trickling in. Mr. Hannes was soon amidst the broken crowd, throwing his bag onto the desk as everyone situated themselves.

      I dropped my head, reaching down to unzip my backpack and tug out my notebook. The edges of the lined papers were curled and nicked, various marks, pencil lines, and dents littered over the deep red cover from years of use. When I planted it down onto my desk with little grace, a figure suddenly caught my attention.

      I lifted my head, frowning at the sudden intrusion of my space. But my eyebrows furrowed in confusion when I met the familiar face of the new transfer student.

      He had his pale hand planted on the edge of my desk, his other hand draped over his black, jean-clad hip, which he cocked to the side as he leaned his weight on one leg. Today, he wore an large gray sweater with frayed edges, though the bottom hem was so short it was almost a crop top. I could only see a sliver of the pale skin above his jeans.

      "Are you going to delete that photo?" he asked, voice deep and frigid. His silver-bullet glare met my own, and I noticed the familiar voice in the back of my head was faint. The thought of my abilities right now was the last thing I wanted to dwell on as my mother's words still taunted me; little joy existed in the idea of reading his mind.

      With an impatient sigh, I pulled out my phone from my back pocket, set it on the table so he could see the screen, and went to my gallery. With an unmoving expression, my gestures stiff, I went to the photo and deleted it without hesitation.

      "Happy now?" I snapped, lifting my head to meet his. His expression was unreadable. His thin lips rested pointedly, eyes moving from my phone to my own passive stare.

      "Hm," he simply hummed, a slight frown meeting the corners of his mouth. I leaned back in my chair.

      "What, disappointed?" I teased, little humor existing behind my dry tone.

      He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding me with an odd stare. "To be honest, yes. You strike me as the type to hold out for a little bit longer." He shrugged, and for some reason, his comment fueled the flames already flickering within me.

    "Well, you don't know me, do you?" I spat with sneering politeness. He scoffed, raising an eyebrow before taking that as his sign to fuck off. Our eyes remained locked for a moment longer as he walked away, before he turned toward his desk and settled into his seat without another word.

      "Fucking new kid," I muttered to myself, crossing my arms over my chest. I felt a familiar stare and turned my head to see him looking at me again—his steel gaze squinted into fierce slits as if analyzing me.

      I quickly faced forward again, choosing not to focus on the odd sensation that met me when I realized he was still looking.

      The two that sat between us finally blocked us from one another, and I subtly tilted my chair back to catch sight of him in my peripheral. When I knew he wasn't staring anymore, I turned my head toward him.

      His head was dropped now, a pencil in his hand as he wrote on a single piece of paper.

      I looked down at my chair and slowly pushed it back, Telekinesis allowing more control over how gently it slid over the floor than my own feet would have, and too subtle for anyone to notice.

      When I was far back enough to have an unobstructed view, I watched him write, his hand moving quickly over the paper as gray lead tore into white sheet. He was incredibly immersed in whatever he was writing, his jet-black hair falling over his forehead and casting his small features in a meek shadow. I felt sudden curiosity itch at my mind.

      "Eren!" I quickly scooted forward in my seat when I heard the abrupt call of my name. I looked ahead, seeing Mr. Hannes with a raised eyebrow as he regarded me from the front of the classroom.

      "Yeah?" I called back, my voice uncomfortably loud as it stretched across the space between us.

      "Want to repeat to the class what I just said?" His expression twisted into something knowing; subtle amusement draped over his tone.

      "No," I said, and faint laughter could be heard throughout the class. I hadn't even heard him speak. As usual, an easy distraction caused everything else in my surroundings to plummet into a realm practically nonexistent, even when the medication's job was to ground me.

      Mr. Hannes sighed, shaking his head with evident defeat.

      "As you all know, finals are coming up as the semester comes to a close. This is your final year, most of you should already have your college applications lined up. This is the time to pay attention." He eyed me before continuing. "You're all capable, even if you don't think so. This is your last chance to sign up for the district's tutoring program. You all should have the sheet; if you need a new one, see me after class. There's no shame in asking for help. Otherwise, counselor Finger is always available."

      I heard a chuckle from a couple of rows ahead, and I turned to see a boy eyeing his friend with a knowing expression. I rolled my eyes. I didn't need to read their minds to know what they were silently communicating. It was no secret that most people went to see counselor Finger because of how she looked—even going as far as embellishing struggles to receive her comfort. On top of her looks, she was known as kind, gentle, and a good listener.

      I had seen her a few times per my mother's request, though her appearance didn't matter to me. I doubted my parents realized that no matter how much therapy I attended, no matter what kind of counseling I committed myself to, there was one significant barrier that prevented me from being genuinely vulnerable to anyone with promising qualifications; my powers.

      I realized that almost every reason behind my current mental debilitation and past experiences eventually traced back to that one 'invaluable' secret, which made it quite hard for me to elaborate on the 'depths of my emotions.' Connecting with anyone on a below-surface level was usually out of the question, so I never bothered to try.

      As class dragged on, Mr. Hannes going over various subjects we had discussed over the semester—throwing in "yes, this will be on your final" every other sentence—I found myself growing desperate to maintain focus. It kept begging to flutter away, and I struggled to keep it grounded by the frantic bouncing of my knee, the tapping of my pencil against my desk, or pushing my shin against the edge of the wood to lean my chair on its two back legs.

      Come on, Concerta, do your fucking job. I scratched at my scalp before pushing my hair back with clawed fingers. Dr. Clark had been debating increasing my dosage, though he was waiting. I was already at one-hundred milligrams. I rolled my eyes, changing positions and raising my hands to rest on the back of my head as one of my legs crossed over the other, scooting my chair back much more abrasively than I had before.

      I found myself slowly looking to the gap behind the two students beside me—the gap that led to the odd boy two seats away.

      I failed to prevent my startled expression when I realized he was already staring at me with those cold, gray eyes. He carried what seemed to be a frustrated and impatient expression. Initially confused, I read his lips as they began forming whispered, almost silent words. "You move too much."

      I could barely make them out, but when I did, I raised an eyebrow. Instead of getting offended, a slight smirk curled a corner of my lips. I didn't respond; I only let out a dramatic sigh as I settled back in my seat, raised my leg to rest it atop my desk, and dropped my hand to tap my pencil against the wood even louder than before.

      Mr. Hannes seemed too invested in his lesson to notice or care, but I received a few irritated glances from surrounding students. I caught a glimpse of the new boy's expression before one of the students between us leaned back and blocked him from view, and it was twisted into furious shock.

      I forgot how fun it was to mess with him. I found myself biting back a small smile, and it somehow became easier to focus on what Mr. Hannes was going over at the front of the class.

      When the bell that ended first period echoed starkly across the room, I sighed as I straightened myself and began to collect the various items that ended up scattered across my desk. Mr. Hannes' booming voice announced tonight's homework over the shuffling crowd, begging us to keep tabs on the updated assignments online.

      A shadow cast over my desk again, and this time I knowingly lifted my head to be met with a familiar glare.

      He had his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pursed in a frown. "You're a vexatious one, aren't you, Eren?" He said my name in a mocking tone, and I realized he must have caught it from Mr. Hannes earlier.

      Not allowing him to catch me off guard, I raised an eyebrow. "Oooh, big word. What made you figure that out?" I asked with a tilt of my head, standing up with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I towered over him, and I realized just how stark our height difference was.

      His eyebrow twitched as he greatly lifted his head to meet my eyes, and I smirked. "I know what kind of person you are," he began. "You think you have it so tough, Mr. School Loner. You cause impulsive disruptions on purpose to seek attention, and you lack basic control," he said plainly.

      My humored demeanor instantly dropped, wiping the smirk off my face. He maintained his firm stare as I frowned, feeling anger spark in the pit of my stomach. "So, you think you know me now, do you?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

      He smirked, seeming to notice my faltering composure. "I could tell those attributes from a mile away. You're not as hard to read as you think," he boldly proclaimed.

      My expression pinched. "You've been here for two days. Don't go getting confident. You have no idea who I am," I said, my gaze intense.

      "Oh, but I am confident. Because I just nailed you right on the head," he said proudly, uncrossing his arms to place his hands on his hips and slightly lean forward.

      I gawked at him, a huff of disbelief leaving me before I shoved past him, my elbow hitting his bicep. "Piss off," I spat, leaving the classroom with the rest of the students.

      He doesn't know me. He doesn't know anything about me.

      I sighed as I stalked to second period, attempting to regain my composure. Everything he had said about me was fucking true. Was I really that easy to read? He had claimed those basic facts about me like it was nothing—announced them like I had them written over my chest in permanent marker.

      Who was he to make such a bold assumption about my character? We had interacted twice before that, and he already had me written down like an opened book. It pissed me off more than anything.

      I didn't even have to read his mind to know what he thought about me, because he had stated it right then and there, without hesitation.

      I still didn't know his name.

༄༄࿐

      When gym period rolled, I sighed with relief. The day was dragging on like it knew how exhausted I was and only wanted to make it worse, but at least it'd be over soon.

      Gym was incredibly easy. Did I use my powers to my advantage? Maybe, maybe not. It all depended on how I was feeling. And today, I was craving the chance to release some of my pent-up anger in an easy, mundane way.

      "Ohh, Jaeger's looking a little more brooding than usual today. Got something up your ass?" I snapped my head to my left as we flooded into the gym to see Jean, a douche-bag who'd tried everything he could to get me to join the basketball team in Sophomore year, then decided to hate me for refusing—insisting I thought I was 'too good' to join.

      Which I was, but that was beside the point.

       "Yeah, it must be your face. I thought I felt something ugly down there," I replied, pushing my hair back on my head. I was preparing myself for the sweaty matting of a lifetime.

      His friends cackled disgustingly as Jean scowled. It wasn't even that great of a comeback, but witnessing his riled-up reaction to something so easy was enough of a reward.

      I heard a quiet scoff behind me and turned to see a familiar face. I felt my expression scrunch at the sight of the new kid. "What are you doing here?" I spat. He wasn't in my gym period yesterday.

      He crossed his arms over his chest—something I noticed he did frequently—and regarded me with a curious look. His eyes lingered on my chest before he met my eyes. "It's only my second day. Isn't that right?" He said with rhetoric sarcasm, referring to my earlier remark. "My schedule got shifted a bit. I got transferred to this period, obviously."

      I frowned. "Whatever," I said before turning back around, carrying every intention of ignoring him.

      But he appeared to have other plans. "Hey," he called.

      I turned around with a perplexed glare. His expression had changed. Though he remained reserved, he appeared less cold as his lips rested plainly. It was mildly discomforting

      "I shouldn't have made you feel invaded earlier. I have a knack for trying to guess what people are like before knowing them," he said in a surprisingly calm manner. I stared at him, remaining silent as I eyed him up and down. He wore the gym uniform assigned to the school—elastic and crimson red drawstring shorts, paired with a matching deep red T-shirt that hung on him loosely.

      His body type could be seen much more easily without his usual oversized clothing, and I analyzed it within a few fleeting seconds. He was small, thin, and lean, slightly toned along his biceps—though moreso along his calves, which trailed down to skinny and pale ankles. His legs were entirely clean-shaven, which caught me by slight surprise.

      "Clearly," I muttered, and his stare grew piercing once more.

      "I'm trying to apologize," he said sharply.

      I sighed. "I don't need your apology." I began to turn around without waiting for his reply, but then I sensed something hurtling toward me and quickly lifted my hand. In a split second I caught a basketball right beside my head, feeling a faint gust of wind brush through my hair from the force it was thrown across the gym with.

      Though I hadn't flinched, a meek sense of relief met me. If I hadn't been able to feel it coming, I would have been hit in the head with an air-tight leather basketball at full strength. That wouldn't have been fun.

      Several "ooh's" sounded throughout the gym, and I lowered the ball to see Jean wearing a furious expression, his fists clenched by his side. We shared an intense stare, and I simply couldn't help myself from the intrusion. My growing confidence began to melt away my mother's words from hours ago.

      A wave of mirrored irritation met me, then,

      'That fucking freak. How did catch that? God, I wish he'd just join the team.'

      His thoughts were accompanied by fleeting hypothetical images of me winning basketball games for Sina High. I smirked, relishing in Jean's internal admiration as he looked away.

      "How... did you do that?" the new boy slowly asked, and I turned to see him contemplatively eyeing the ball in my hands before lifting his gaze to study mine, his eyebrows quizzically pinched together.

      "I have superpowers," I said dryly, and he rolled his eyes before turning around and walking toward the gathering class.

      I sighed, dribbling the ball a few times as I walked to join them before tossing it to the other side of the gym. As it bounced across the glossy floor, Jean glared at me. I sent him a smug smirk, playfully saluting with a toss of my hand before the coach blew his whistle.

      "Alright, quit fooling around. It's game time, ladies," Coach Shadis snapped, his eyebrow-less glare shooting through Jean and me.

      Connie, one of Jean's equally as brainless friends, snickered, and I flicked my gaze over to see the new boy idling a few feet away, a distant look in his eyes. He caught my stare, raising a curious eyebrow, and I felt the familiar urge to breach his mind flare up beneath my skin. It was an itch that would only be scratched by the vile act of tearing away someone's preservation.

      But I didn't give in. And I couldn't pinpoint why.

      We began the period with simple warm-ups, and I completed my push-up reps before the rest of the class. Simply pushing myself up with a bit of unnoticeable help from Telekinesis was effortless. I simply made it appear like I had above-average arm strength, which wouldn't be new to anyone. I'd been utilizing it since middle school.

      Shadis didn't hesitate to send me on laps around the gymnasium, and I flicked my dampening hair back with a toss of my head as I sighed. "And get a damn haircut," he snapped, and I smirked to myself as I began my jog at the start of the bleachers.

      Halfway into my second lap, a short figure caught up to me. I raised an eyebrow, turning my head to see the new boy jogging by my side. "You finished your push-ups?" I asked quizzically. He smirked, keeping his head forward.

      "What, surprised?" he mocked, and I scoffed as I increased my speed to get away from him. I wasn't in the mood to deal with his overbearing attitude.

      He met my pace with ease, and I sped up again, my jog turning into a brisk run. But he stayed at my side with an impassive expression, and I felt my eyebrows twitch. He was challenging me.

      Without warning, I broke out into a vigorous run, feeling my calves burn as I bolted forward. I heard heavy pants that mirrored my own and briefly turned my head to see that he remained at my side.

      "Shit," I cursed, pushing myself harder. Telekinesis didn't work on running. If I attempted to force myself forward, I would simply trip and fall, and it would be way too obvious if I tried to push him back—even gradually, as he understood the strength of his own body better than I did.

      I had to rely on pure stamina to win this. I noticed that the rest of the class had grown quiet, no doubt watching us race. The sound of our sneakers smashing against the polished floor echoed through the room, the occasional grating squeak of friction shattering the air. I grunted, feeling the fire in my legs spread, burning my muscles as I exerted my limit.

      He didn't falter; he continued to match my pace as we rounded the gym, and when I glanced at him in my peripheral, I noticed the slight smirk that curled his lips despite his concentrated expression.

      I didn't want to give up. I continued running, determined to watch him lose, determined to make him regret putting up a fight. But no matter how much I pushed myself further, my muscles crying out as I ran without restraint, he continued to persist. He wouldn't slow down—in fact, it almost looked as if he wasn't even using everything he had.

      "Fuck," I cursed, finally giving in after the fifth excruciating lap. My body felt like it was going to collapse in on itself.

      When he realized I'd slowed to a stop, he came to a gradual halt just ahead of me. "Ohh, beat by the new kid!" Jean called, his aggravating voice bouncing off the gymnasium walls.

      "Fuck off!" I shouted back, heaving as I gripped my knees.

      "That's enough, Jaeger!" Shadis snapped from across the gym. But when I lifted my head, I noticed he had his gaze lingering on the new student.

      I still didn't know his fucking name.

      Footsteps neared me, and I turned to see him walking toward me with his pale arms crossed over his chest. He wore a smug expression, staring up at me with utter confidence painted over him. "Giving up again? How disappointing," he teased. I sneered, turning away from him with a disgustingly wounded pride.

      Jean snickered as I neared the bleachers, and I threw my middle finger up without hesitation.

      Suddenly, the new kid's comment from earlier hit me. 'You cause impulsive disruptions on purpose to seek attention, and you lack basic control.' My anger surged when the memory resurfaced.

      So far, I hadn't done anything to prove him otherwise, and the thought began to feel more excruciating than I imagined. Even though he was the one to initiate the hint of a race, I'd taken the bait and engaged at my limit just to prove a measly point—which I ended up failing to do.

      When I sat down, I lifted my head, immediately searching for the cause of my disruptive thoughts. He had resumed jogging laps around the gym—as if he hadn't just won a five-lap race at full speed.

      When he neared the bleachers, he lifted his head to meet my eyes. And within a mere second, I could have sworn he winked. But he turned away and passed me before I could think twice on it. Initially startled, I forced myself to shake my head. I was just imagining things.

      I planted my elbow on my knee, sinking into a pout I wasn't afraid to admit was pitiful as I propped my chin on my palm. The rest of the class finished their push-up reps within the next few minutes, and as everyone groaned while they began to stand up, Coach Shadis blew his whistle.

      "Alright, since some of you seem to have a little extra fire in you today, we're gonna play some dodgeball to get it out of your system," he announced. My eyes lit up, and I straightened up as the words captured my full attention.

      "Teams are going to be regularly sorted. Line up!" he snapped. I sprung up to my feet, bouncing off the final bleacher and landing with a thump on the gym floor. I strode toward the rest of the class, which had haphazardly begun gathering into a broken, chattering line, settling myself at the very end.

      I rubbed my hands together, watching the coach as he paced the length of the class, eyeing each of us up and down.

      "Wagner, team one," he began, pointing to his right. The tall, lanky blond named Thomas stepped forward, fidgeting anxiously.

      "Hoover, team two." The tallest of the class, Bertholdt, stepped forward. Bigger target, I snickered to myself. He was much too shy and reserved to make any bold moves during a game. "Blouse, one." Sasha skipped to her group. "Kierstein, two." Jean cracked his knuckles and met Bertholdt's side, and I scoffed at his dramatics.

      "Springer, one," he said next, pointing to his left. Connie sprung forward, rushing to stand beside Sasha. "Leonhart, two. Carolina, one." Opposite girls for opposite teams.

      "Braun, two." The burly blond, Reiner, silently walked to his assigned group. I was growing antsy. Shadis knew how 'talented' I was at dodgeball—the teams I'd been assigned to had never lost a game—and I wondered if he was postponing my placement on purpose.

      But he never kept eye contact, so I had little hope of finding out.

      However, it seemed as if my internal dwelling had arrived just in time.

      "Jaeger, one," Shadis commanded.

      I smirked, and instantaneously, Jean's aggravating voice tore through the air.      

      "You're done for, Jaeger!" he yelled, his voice echoing against the gymnasium walls.

      Shadis shot a pointed glare at him but remained silent. I knew he put us on opposite teams for a reason. I always sensed he received a sense of amusement from our disputes. I huffed a dry laugh through my nose as I strolled to the first group.

      Shadis filed through the rest of the students until only one remained. I fidgeted in anxious anticipation.

      "Ackerman," he began. "Two."

      My eyes momentarily widened. I tried to ignore the way my skin crawled upon hearing the last name. I swallowed as I attempted to shove away the influx of memories that it granted me.

      With an unmoving expression, the new kid shuffled to the second group. His steel eyes didn't meet mine as he joined the others, but I could still feel the unspoken challenge that ignited in the air between us.

      Shit, why does Shadis have to be so old-school and use last names?

      "Alright, opposite sides of the gym, now!" Coach shouted. Everyone immediately dispersed, scattering to their designated sides. I sighed, finding myself slyly smiling as I waited for the game to begin.

      My mom's disapproval officially ceased from the forefront of my mind. This was the time for me to remind myself of who I was, to prove that the power within me lay in the palm of my hands, and nobody had the right to take that away from me.

      We gathered the red leather balls, a scorching fire in my eyes. Shadis stood by the bleachers, letting us simmer in the brewing tension.

      Then, he blew the whistle, and all hell broke loose. I launched the first ball, aiming for the tallest victim—Bertholdt. I didn't even have to do anything to the ball; he simply attempted to twitch to the side and failed miserably as the ball hit his thigh.

      He sighed, shrugging his massive shoulders as he walked off the court. A ball hurtled toward me, and I easily swerved to avoid it before glancing at the culprit. Jean's eyes held an intense fury as he reached for another ball that rolled beside him. I grabbed the one he'd thrown, then tossed it toward him. I didn't want to get him out—yet—it was always fun to rile him up first, to leave him thinking he had a chance.

      He dodged it, as expected, and threw another one at me at full force. It was nearing me quickly with admirable strength, but with subtle manipulation, I curved it to the side. To make it less obvious, I stepped around it at the same time.

      "No fucking way, Jaeger!" Jean growled across the court, and I grinned. I searched the opposing team and raised an eyebrow when I spotted the new kid. He was standing idly to the side, his hands empty—in fact, his arms were crossed over his chest again. I analyzed him for a moment, dodging an oncoming attack with a shift of my feet, and squinted my eyes when he merely stepped to the side to avoid the ball that Connie threw at him.

      He's too calm. But I won't go after him—yet.

      Mina Carolina got out, and she groaned as she kicked her foot against the glossy wood floor, sulking to the bleachers. I searched for the person who'd hit her, and my eyes landed on Annie Leonhart. She wore a stoic expression but an intense, focused gaze.

      She caught my stare and quickly lifted her guard. But her preparation was in vain. I pulled my arm back with the ball in my hand and launched it toward her. I didn't put my power in the force behind the throw, but rather the direction it flew through the air. She began to step away, and a glimmer of confidence met her, but it dropped to a shocked look of realization when I subtly tweaked the curvature of the ball, and it hit her side.

      Sure, it was blatant cheating if one considered I was the only person with the advantage, but nobody else had to know that. In a way, it was my own form of secret training—training I gained a sense of pleasure from. And what was so bad about that?

      Annie clenched her fists by her side, huffing a breath of anger, and Shadis blew his whistle. "Get off the court, Leonhart!" Annie snapped her glare toward him, but didn't say a word as she stalked off toward the bleachers.

      Within several minutes, only five of us remained, Reiner, Sasha, Jean, the new kid, and myself. Sasha was a good teammate to have—she was nimble and agile. A proud, confident smirk curled Jean's smug expression. "Three against two, Jaeger!" he shouted across the court. Oh, just you wait.

      Reiner launched a ball toward Sasha first. Sasha prepared to dive to the right, but I gave her an extra advantage by slightly curving the ball to my left, since Reiner was left handed. The manipulations of the balls were so incredibly subtle that they were almost nonexistent—but they gave just the perfect amount of advantage. Jean launched one toward me while I threw one at Reiner. I controlled both balls at the same time by rapidly glancing between them, making Jean's fly right past me while mine hit Reiner square in the stomach.

      He cursed, and Jean groaned. "What the hell, man?" he snapped, and Reiner rolled his eyes as he made his way toward the bleachers and at Bertholdt's side.

      It was two against two. Sasha cheered, throwing her hands into the air before running for a ball. I eyed the new kid, and he simply stood there—as he'd been doing all game. "Dude, are you gonna do something?" Jean snapped at him, tossing his arms out in exasperation. 'Ackerman' rolled his eyes before he uncrossed his arms and finally began to shuffle his way toward an idle ball. The fire in me flickered at the sight of it.

      "You go for Sasha; I'll go for Eren," Jean said much too loudly. I scoffed with a shake of my head, and the new kid simply sighed.

      He reeled his arm back, and I casually waited to react as he seemed to prepare himself. With his size, I doubted it would be anything extraordinary.

      However, nobody, not even myself, could prepare for the force of his sudden, strong, and incredibly fast throw. I was immediately caught off guard. I had only a split second to react, barely forcing the ball to the right of Sasha before it hit her as she squeaked. Ackerman's eyes widened and I cursed to myself. Shit. That was way too obvious.

      I swallowed, eyeing him. He quickly prepared another ball, and at the same time, Jean launched one toward me. Between the two balls and the speed at which the new kid's was tearing through the air, I couldn't react without pulling something risky. So, with a heavy pride, I allowed Sasha to get hit as I dodged the one hurtling toward me.

      "Aww, man!" Sasha whined, pouting as she sagged toward the bleachers. "Yes!" Jean shouted, his expression growing fierce.

       I sighed. This win will be easy now that I only have myself to worry about. Despite the fire I'd put out this morning, a burst of energy swelled within me. I didn't feel an ounce of exhaustion. Sometimes Telepathy took a toll on me when overused. But Telekenesis was a different playing field. Slightly moving the balls was such a trivial, minimal use of my power—it was like giving candy to a baby.

      Jean seemed to prepare for the throw of his lifetime, and I couldn't help but smirk at his desperation. He was constantly determined to prove himself; I almost felt bad for him—but not enough to let him win.

      I made a dramatic show of it as the ball hurtled toward me, spinning to the side as I gently nudged it.

      The new kid didn't make a move. He seemed to be profoundly analyzing me, focusing on my movements. I had to ensure I didn't do anything that may have been too obvious to prying eyes—his attention was glued to me.

      The class shouted and cheered from the bleachers. It was pretty split between who they wanted to win, but they were primarily cheering for who remained on their team.

      It was as if only Jean and I were on the court. He seemed to give up on the new kid doing anything, gluing all of his focus on me alone. I threw a ball at him and allowed him to dodge it. He was skilled, that much was true, and if I didn't play like he was capable of dodging or catching, I would run the risk of looking too suspicious.

      "Come on; I know you can do better than that!" He shouted, throwing a ball at me. I doged it again, and he scowled. Using the same ball, I returned it, deciding to leave Ackerman alone—for now.

      I was beginning to itch for us to go one-on-one. Something told me if it was just us on the court, he wouldn't remain so impassive. I was growing antsy to know what he was really capable of—especially after those blows toward Sasha.

      I allowed Jean to have a bit more fun before I ended the battle between us. We drew our arms back simultaneously, and this time I prepared myself to get him out. As his ball was launched at me, I analyzed its direction and threw my ball just as I moved to the side and nudged his away.

      I caught movement in my peripheral for only a fleeting second, and everything seemed to screech to a halt when I felt a ball roughly meet my side.

      My eyes widened, and I was frozen in shock as realization slapped me in the face. Jean didn't even bat an eye when he was hit; he simply gawked as he looked between the new kid and me. The new kid who'd just thrown a ball at unaccountable speed and hit me dead on.

      When it sank in, I glanced at the ball that was slowly rolling away across the glossy floor.

      I'd never been hit in dodgeball.

      I snapped my head up to meet Ackerman's eyes, and he smirked, crossing his arms over his chest without a word. Coach Shadis blew his whistle. "That's game! Team two wins. Nice job, Ackerman." Even Shadis seemed to eye the new kid with an odd stare. As the evenly dispersed shock finally began to settle, everyone gradually cheered.

      "Get owned, Jaeger!" Jean shouted at the top of his lungs with his hands cupped around his mouth and his hips jutted forward. I couldn't find the right words to retort. Disbelief still coursed through me, and I blinked as the two began to head toward the bleachers.

      How did I miss that? Had he really been so quick that I didn't even have time to react? He was watching me the entire time I was against Jean. Was he reading my movement, remembering it, and waiting for the perfect opportunity?

      Even so, manipulating the ball wouldn't have been a problem if I had seen it. It was the pure, sudden velocity of the throw that completely caught me off guard.

      This fucking new kid.

      I finally huffed, feeling my expression twist into a scowl as I dragged myself to the bleachers.

      "Basic warm-ups for the rest of the period. Get to it," Coach Shadis announced, and everyone scattered to their desired spots around the gym. I sat down, and for once the coach didn't complain, feeling my mind slip away in fervorous contemplation.

      There's no way I just lost that.

      As I made the shameful admission to myself, a pit of embarrassment and defeat settled inside me. No one else appeared to care that I lost; no one was mocking, shaming, or carrying it on—not even Jean, to my surprise—yet I couldn't stop dwelling over it.

      All my life, I've had an advantage; my upper-hand was always unparalleled in any gym or P.E. class. No matter the dangers that came with my powers, and despite the continuous disillusion from my parents, I was always able to rely on my pride and worth through the benefit of my physical abilities.

      It was just a game of dodgeball, a trivial activity despite the initial intensity it brewed. It was unimportant—I shouldn't have been taking it so seriously. Yet the loss nagged at my skull like a sickness. Then, before I knew it, anger started to overwhelm the shame and frustration.

      "Hey." I was met by a regretfully familiar voice. I lifted my head, my expression cold as I watched the very cause of this mental-fuck walk up to me.

      "What do you want?" I snapped, and he appeared momentarily taken aback by my outburst. As soon as his composure slipped, however, he regained it as his face settled into something stoic.

      "I was just going to tell you that you did well. But your pride is clearly too wounded to accept a compliment. You've probably never lost before, have you?" He threw a hand on his hip. I felt my anger gradually boil into a fit of rage. One word continuously dug at my skin.

      Lost. Loss.

      Memories quickly overwhelmed me as I noticed my hands had begun to shake

      I need to stop before I have an episode.

      I took a deep breath as my leg bounced, forcing my mind to retreat into a state of forced composure. It wouldn't last, but it was what I needed to keep me off the edge.

      The sound of a stream in a quiet forest. A distant waterfall. Twittering birds. Flight. The feeling of the wind.

      Doctor Clark wasn't all bad, sometimes.

      "Leave me alone," I said calmly, and his eyebrows drew into a firm crease.

      I didn't give him time to respond. I stood and forced myself to walk away, taking deep, grounding breaths as I distanced myself.

      "Sometimes it's good to take a loss every now and then, you know," he called from behind me. I only kept walking, but that didn't stop his words from lodging themselves in my head.

       By the time gym period was over, I was ready to get the hell out of there. I was the first one out the door, and I shoved my hands into the pockets of my shorts. I need to go for a walk.

      When I was crossing the courtyard to the locker building, however, I was halted once more. "Hey, hold on." I let out a frustrated groan, and I turned to see Ackerman hurrying up to me.

       I couldn't help myself from snapping. "What the hell is wrong with you? Could you just do me a favor and stay out of my life?"

      He came to a stop in front of me, letting the words hang for a moment before sighing. "We got off on the wrong foot. And admittedly, a big part of that is my fault. I didn't mean to rile you up so much—I can get ahead of myself in that department," he explained.

      Momentarily caught by surprise, I stared downat him, before my frustration resurfaced all at once. "I don't know where you came from or what your sudden infatuation is with me, but I don't need any friends. I'm perfectly capable on my own without you getting in the way of things," I spat.

      He crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent. I was about to walk away, tired of his incessant ebb and flow, before he spoke up again. "I like that word. Infatuation," he began. I curled an eyebrow. "It's a dangerous emotion. It can either flourish into something beautiful when nurtured or crumble the ground beneath you," he finished.

      I eyed him with steadily growing confusion. "What are you, some kind of poet?" I said, drawing an amused breath through his nose as he shifted from one foot to the other.

      "Something like that, I suppose," he mumbled.

     I scoffed. "Whatever. Just–"

      "Let me finish first," he cut me off, keeping a steady tone. I huffed, yet closed my mouth with a tight frown.

      "I'm not good at this stuff. Something tells me you aren't, either. In the town where I'm from, everybody is mundane. I didn't really have any real friends because I didn't allow myself to get close to anyone; no one piqued my interest. I was an oddity to them, just like you," he continued.

      I scoffed, failing to understand what point he was trying to make, and honestly offended. "What, does that make us friends?" I bit back, and he rolled his eyes.

      "No, clearly not. But... the reason why I've been so incessant with you is that you're... different. You're bright. You piqued my interest," he explained. I blinked at him, letting his shocking words settle into the air. I'm bright? Now who's the bold one?

      I finally began to calm down as I processed his words. It seemed he was being sincere, and he wasn't trying to push any of my buttons this time. So, I decided to hear him out. "You sure have a funny way of showing it," I said plainly.

      He smirked. "I can't deny that."

      Silence struggled between us. The frigid air nipped at my skin, but at the moment, I didn't care. In fact, the cooling chill almost felt nice after the exertion I'd just put my body through. Then, I realized something.

      "I don't even know your name," I said, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

      He eyed me momentarily, and I wondered if he was going to even respond. "It's Levi. Levi Not Prosumptuous Ackerman." Despite the serious way he'd introduced himself, I saw the joke for what it was. I couldn't help but crack a small smile.

      "Then I'm Eren. Eren Not Impulsive Jaeger," I claimed.

      He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I don't know about that," he teased, and I shook my head.

      "You still don't know me. I don't care how much you think you do," I said, and the stiff truth behind the statement still lived despite my eased tone.

      He eyed me with a curious look. "You're closed off. What if I said I would challenge myself and break into you?" He took a step closer, and I squinted my eyes at him, trying to see through his goal.

      "Then I'm going to prove to you I'm not who you think I am," I said.

      He raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Ooh. Now that'll be interesting," he said.

      As we locked eyes, I searched his expression. His engrossed stare glimmered with something subtle, even as his features rested pointedly. Something told me he was closed off, too. And as we exchanged a calculative stare, the sudden urge to revoke his chosen preservation nudged me.

      I could tear his privacy away. I could remove his outer shell by gradually finding out each and every thing about him, just with a simple push into his mind.

      But the glint in his eyes reminded me of the challenge I'd made. And with that challenge invited the prideful urge to test my limits.

      And right then and there, I made the decision. I wasn't going to read his mind. He would be the only person, besides my parents, that I didn't use my power on. I would prove to him and myself that I could control the very thing that threatened to hold control over me.

      This is turning out to be very interesting indeed.

Chapter Text

Neighbors

      Eren burst into the house with little forbearance, throwing his backpack onto the floor. Carla trailed in after him, slamming the door shut behind them. Frustration pulsed off of the two, and Eren's senses were getting the full brunt of it.

      "This is simply unacceptable, Eren. You are twelve years old. You need to start acting like it," Carla snapped. She'd been called in by Eren's fifth grade teacher to discuss issues for the third time that week, and she was at her limit.

      "Mom, I literally can't focus! I'm trying, I really am!" Eren cried. His mother had scolded him incessantly during the entire car ride home, and she wasn't letting up no matter how much Eren tried to explain.

      "At this point it's an excuse, Eren! Having trouble focusing is one thing, but you are causing blatant disruptions in the middle of class, you're failing every test, and your missing assignments are through the roof! It isn't fair to your teacher, and it isn't fair to me!" she yelled.

      Eren had thrown his hands over his ears half way through her lecture, and when Carla noticed, she glared at him. "You need to listen to me, Eren!" she shouted loud enough for her voice to pierce through Eren's palms.

      He ripped his hands away and groaned a sound of exhaustion. "Why can't you just homeschool me?! Can't you see how hard this is?" he pleaded, gripping his hair. Grisha had walked to the living room from the kitchen upon hearing the dispute, wiping his hands with a cloth and a pinched, stern look.

      "Don't give me that again. You need a proper education; I'm not going to spend every hour of my day making sure you get that, and you know your father is too busy," she snapped.

      Grisha sighed. They had already kept Eren from preschool because he hadn't understood the importance of keeping his powers a secret until he was six—even going out was risky.

      Trying to teach Eren the very basics at home—such numbers and the alphabet—when his powers were so new and uncontrolled had taken a huge toll on Carla, and she swore to Grisha that she'd never do it again.

      Eren began public school almost two years later than everyone else—once they were confident he knew how to keep his abilities hidden.

      He was almost held back countless times due to his underdeveloped understanding and attention deficiency, barely scraping by each year. He was the oldest in every single one of his grades, and this year with spring break around the corner he was going to be the only thirteen year old in a class full of ten and eleven year olds. The embarrassment he felt and the teasing he received was hard enough on his already fragile mind. He struggled to not make those kids pay for making fun of him.

      "If you're not going to do anything to make school easier for me, why is it my fault?!" Eren shouted, throwing his arms out beside him. The envelopes on the table next to him flew to the ground, and he hurriedly pulled his hand to his chest and gripped his wrist with an expression of trepidation.

      Carla eyed the mess with a disgusted frown, her anger surging from his slip-up. "Because you cannot control yourself!" she shouted, pointing toward the fallen mail as evidence.

      Eren's face scrunched up painfully. "You're putting too much pressure on me, mom! I'm just a kid! You don't know what it's like to have everyone's thoughts constantly in your head! You don't understand how hard it is to just 'listen' when there is so much going on all the time!" He tried to get her to understand, he had attempted to explain the same point time and time again. But she was blindsided by her own abhorrence. Grisha frowned at his son's words, remaining silent.

      "I don't need to understand. I know you can do better than this; you're three months into your new medication and Dr. Clark has told me it's working." Carla lowered her voice before saying her next sentence, though it was a venomous hiss that slapped Eren's face. "You know you're capable of not reading minds by now. You're choosing not to behave out of spite, and I'm tired of it, Eren!" She snapped, disregarding every word her son had said within an instant.

      A tear of frustration dripped down Eren's face, and he was quickly overwhelmed by helplessness and anger.

      "You don't listen!" he screamed, clenching his eyes shut, and the glass bowl atop the entryway table shattered—spilling the keys that were inside. Carla jumped away, and Grisha quickly stepped forward.

      "Calm down, Eren!" he demanded. Eren kept his eyes tightly closed, grinding his teeth as he gripped his hair. He could feel himself quickly losing control. But Carla stepped forward and grabbed Eren's wrist, furious.

      "That is enough! You are grounded, you hear me?! You're not going to the park to see your friends and you're not playing video games until I see some changes in your behavior! Every call I receive from your teacher and every missed assignment is going to be another week that you're grounded!" she yelled.

      The words caused something in Eren to finally snap. The park and his video games were his only escape from the constant, overwhelming weight of the world, and hearing it would be taken from him ripped away the final thread he had on his control.

      He screamed, tearing himself away from his mother and stumbling backward. A booming force echoed from him, bouncing off the walls and forcing his parents back. The lights flickered, and everything happened within a matter of seconds.

      The two vases along the livingroom shelf exploded, the TV fell onto the floor, the coffee table tipped over, the mail that had fallen shot into the air and flew through the room like paper knives, and the tall lamp in the corner of the room toppled over—the light bulb shattering and littering the carpet with glass.

      As Carla desperately shielded herself, Grisha leapt forward and wrapped his arms around Eren, pinning him to the ground. He shielded his son's body and forced Eren's limbs to his sides, encasing him in a tight hold until the wave ended.

      By the time silence ensued, an immense amount of damage had been done. Grisha carefully got off Eren as his son hyperventilated, and all Carla could do was stare in horror as her arms slowly fell to her sides.

      "Are you okay?" Grisha asked her. She blinked, wide-eyed, but shakily nodded her head. "I'm taking him to his room. Clean up as much as you can—the neighbors had to have heard this; the police could be here any minute," he said quickly. The station was only a few blocks from the house.

      Still stunned with shock, she hesitated, her eyes glued to her trembling son as she lifted a hand toward him. "Go, Carla!" Grisha said in a harsh whisper, and she quickly sprang into action.

      By the time Grisha came back downstairs, Carla was vacuuming the carpet, clad in thick slippers. The lamp and coffee table were back upright, but countless shards of glass still remained, varying in size.

      Grisha put on his own sandals and began with picking up the TV and scattered mail, but before they could finish cleaning the damage that remained, a firm knock sounded at the door.

      "Shit," Grisha cursed, and Carla turned off the vacuum and eyed him with a knowing frown.

      Sure enough, when they opened the door, two police officers stood on the other side. "Good afternoon, officers," Grisha said with a drop of sweat on his brow. The closest officer nodded curtly. "Good afternoon. We received several calls reporting noise disturbances. Would you mind if we took a look inside?" he asked, flashing his badge. Grisha sighed, but stepped back and allowed the officers into their home.

      They made sounds of disapproval as they eyed the remaining mess, but Carla and Grisha were simply relieved they hadn't arrived any earlier.

      "We were informed you have a young son. Mind explaining what happened here?" The officer asked as he crossed his arms over his chest with a pointed stare.

      Carla stepped forward. "We are so sorry for the disruption, officers. I promise, everything is okay. Unfortunately, our son was diagnosed with Intermittent Explosive Disorder at a very young age," she explained.

      The officer raised an eyebrow. "You're saying the kid did all this?" he asked quizzically, gesturing to the remaining destruction.

      Carla nodded, lips pursed. "His explosions can be very violent, sometimes it's extremely difficult to control them. But I assure you, he is getting all the help he can, and he isn't physically hurt," she said gingerly.

      The officer hummed, slowly nodding his head. "I understand. Some problems can simply exist out of our control, ma'am. Where is your son now?" he asked.

      "In his room, upstairs. He's failing in school, so we grounded him, which led to the episode," Carla told him. The officer nodded again before he turned to Grisha, eyeing his build. Grisha stood tall above him, his shoulders broad.

      "Sir, you seem like a well-capable man. Please see to it that your son doesn't inflict this much damage next time so nobody gets hurt," he said sternly, and he failed to hide the subtle judgment in his tone.

      Grisha sighed, but nodded. "I will, sir. Thank you," he simply replied. That was all he could say.

    The officer nodded with approval. "I apologize for the inconvenience, then. Good luck to you both, and have a good rest of your day."

      When the door finally shut behind them, Carla sighed a heavy breath of relief, while Grisha lifted his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, Grisha, what are we going to do?" Carla asked exasperatedly, lingering her gaze on their destroyed living room.

      Grisha sighed, dropping his hand. "This is getting out of hand. The older he's getting the more powerful he's becoming, and for him to have an episode like this because of something so trivial is concerning," he said with a pinched expression.

      "Maybe I was too hard on him," Carla began. "I mean—he's still only a boy, just like he said." She frowned as she anxiously combed her brown hair back.

      Grisha shook his head, hand stroking his stubbled chin. "The answer isn't to stop punishing him; he'll run rampant if we don't establish some control. But we just have to be cautious and try not to set him off. If you can, just try being a little more gentle when you scold him," Grisha suggested.

      Carla pursed her lips. "I'm worried if I'm too gentle we will still run the risk of him disregarding our role as his parents. He's already so smart, Grisha," she explained.

      Grisha nodded in agreement. "Well, let's discuss his worsening behavior with Dr. Clark and look at his options; maybe something needs to change. But our best hope for now is that he will eventually grow out of these outbursts," Grisha finalized.

      Carla hummed, turning her head to eye the vacant staircase with a thoughtful, somber gaze. "And if he never does?" she risked wondering aloud, looking back at Grisha with discernable fear in her hazel eyes.

      Grisha remained unresponsive at first, but the foreboding stares they shared silently expressed what they both thought.

      "We know he'll be safe there if it comes down to it," Grisha said quietly. Carla's heart sank.

༄༄࿐

Present day

Eren

      When I told myself I'd never been attracted to anyone, sometimes I wondered if it was true, or if it was just a construct I'd created to cope with my inability to connect with others.

      I'd been on this earth for nineteen years, and yet I couldn't say I truly understood what real attraction was. There was Nifa, who has practically been in love with me since middle-school, and I'd never even had the urge to try reciprocating her feelings. Then there was that girl I randomly slept with at a junior party. Someone's older brother had brought booze. I was nearly wasted, and she was certainly as far gone as I was. I couldn't remember feeling a physical connection with her, nor even a basic attraction at face-value. I simply just wanted to see what it was like. I enjoyed the attention she was giving me, and that was that.

      Then there was that girl I went to homecoming with to save face. Her social circle was so large, that at the time I felt pressured to give into what they all wanted to see of us. I had nothing to lose, so I had played along.

      She was head-over-heels for me, but for the life of me I couldn't return her feelings. The second I read her mind I was hit with a wave of overwhelming adoration, self-doubt, subtle nit-picky judgement, and unrestrained emotion. It was different from Nifa—it was borderline unhinged. It immediately turned me off from any desire of pursuing her, and from that point on all I could see when I looked at her was the person she kept hidden inside, and how desperately she tried to maintain her mask.

      That was the case with everyone. Some were better than others, but no matter who they appeared to be on the outside, I saw any amount of ugly truth once I revoked their outer shell. People always kept secrets; no one was ever completely honest, no matter how nice and sincere they attempted to be externally.

      Little white lies, hidden superiority complexes, internalized judgment—they were what made a person's mind a human mind. They were part of the human experience. The truth about how one felt toward another person, toward themselves, toward the world, it was always kept within. And when I exposed it for my own understanding, I saw that person for who they really were.

      While one may have considered that an intimate thing, a stroke of luck, it only twisted my perception of who that person claimed to be. If I were to express to that person that I knew the truth about who they attempted to keep buried, I would be considered the oddity, the inhuman freak that threatened to take away their cherished preservation. Their shortcomings became my secret, my burden, on top of their own.

      If I were to express this to my mom, she would give me a simple and straightforward answer. Stop reading minds. Stop putting myself through constant torment by seeing the world for what it was.

      But it wasn't that simple. It never had been. When I had the ability to keep others from hiding their true nature from me, I was inclined to utilize it, to abuse it for my own safety. The temptation to strip away that invisible barrier between me and another would always exist. Maybe it was some sick satisfaction I got off on, maybe it was a weird, sabotaging tactic of self-preservation.

      Maybe that was why my parents intimidated me—something I'd never admit aloud. I hadn't read a single thought of theirs since I was seven years old, when they unanimously decided to stop looking me in the eyes.

      Let's just say the year following hadn't been great.

      Though I could assume how they felt toward me based on natural human reactions and emotions such as anger, envy, repulsion, regret, there would always be a layer of truth beneath them that I would never breach, a collection of thoughts meticulously sealed away.

      I wasn't sure how they had done it so well at first, keeping themselves from making eye-contact with me when they did it with every other person on this planet—if you asked my father, he'd claim he tried to avoid it with everyone—though they had somehow become masters at the act.

      They ruled with an iron fist, and to be completely honest I couldn't blame them. In their eyes, I could have snapped at any moment; I could have torn away the uncertain sense of safety and control that they had desperately maintained all my life.

      They didn't ease up the day I turned eighteen. The only thing that developed in our rigid, unstable household were the screaming matches my mom and I ensued when I wanted to stay home from school. I sometimes won, I sometimes didn't. I had finally become an adult, and I could make any choice I wanted to. But they never viewed it that way.

      They wouldn't have to worry about me anymore once I moved out after school. I knew my mom didn't want me to—the thought practically terrified her, that I could feel without reading her mind.

      She was worried I couldn't handle myself on my own, that I'd spiral out of control. She still viewed me as the unstable child with Intermittent Explosive Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, and supernatural abilities I didn't yet have ahold of.

      But the truth was, she was one of the main reasons behind my behavior. She didn't allow herself to accept that most of the time my reactions were due to her lack of tact. I had more control over my power now than they'd ever know.

      I stopped venting long ago. My dad would simply remain silent until I got out of control, and my mom would twist my words until she became the victim, until I was the culprit—which was exactly what caused me to spiral, encouraging the never-ending cycle. It was ironic, really.

      They refused to understand how I felt or the reasons why I behaved the way that I did. And I suppose I found them hard to understand now, too.

      I had long since accepted the way things were, and I didn't have any intention of changing them.

      Yet, I couldn't help but wonder why I had made an exception with him.

      "Thirty-two ninety-five is your total," I said robotically, glancing at the clock on my phone as I began the transaction process. Just an hour left.

      I'm this close to just quitting this job.

      It was an impulsive and unreasonable thought, as I made good money here and I needed to save up, but sometimes I just felt like it.

      I quickly put my phone down as I caught the woman pulling out her wallet in my peripheral, pushing my loose hair back out of my face with my hand. When she inserted her card, we locked eyes, and I couldn't help myself as she gave me an innocent smile. She'd been staring at me oddly since she came to my checkout lane. She was a new customer—I'd never seen her come in before. So, it was only natural.

      An odd sensation met me, something intense and passionate, and a split second later I was met with her thoughts.

      'God, he's so fucking hot. Shit, the way he's looking at me. I wonder how old he is? The things I would let him do to me. He could bend me over and fuck me from behind, make me—'

      I immediately tore my eyes away from hers and cleared my throat just as I was met with a flood of pornographic images, desperately attempting to force down the heat that threatened to rise on my face.

      That wasn't how I looked naked, but she didn't have to know that.

      I couldn't look at her again after that. She completed the transaction and politely told me to have a good day like she wasn't just imagining me railing her.

      I shook my head with wide eyes once she grabbed her bags and left the building, puffing my cheeks and letting out a heavy breath.

      People may have expressed shame and humility externally, but it was practically nonexistent when it came to their vivid and unfiltered imagination. They weren't expected to think anyone had insight to it. I never knew when I was going to read a porn addict's mind until I was flooded with images and thoughts that made me want to bleach my eyes.

      As I desperately attempted to forget her rabid, objectifying thoughts, a deep voice met me. "What's got you shitting your pants?" I turned my head, momentarily freezing when it landed on none other than Levi.

      I quickly regained my composure, shrugging my shoulders. "Just someone really shamelessly flirting," I lied. "What are you doing here?" The question was a bit mindless, and I could tell he felt the same when he raised a thin eyebrow.

      "This is a supermarket, not your house. And flirting? I would have guessed you'd be the type to enjoy that." He didn't meet my eyes as he said the words, beginning to pile several items from his cart onto the conveyor belt.

      "As much as this may hurt to hear, you're wrong," I said confidently. I was somewhat both relieved and disappointed he missed the mark on me that time.

      He finally looked at me, scoffing. "Please, I have plenty of time to dig into you. And maybe I'm not wrong. Something tells me you just don't know it yet," he boldly proclaimed. My eyebrows twitched, but I was suddenly reminded of the first thing he had said.

      'I have plenty of time to dig into you.' How long was he planning on keeping this up for?

      "I don't know about that," I mumbled. "What's all this for, anyway?" I curiously eyed the artichoke as I manually registered it, setting it off to the side.

      "My uncle wants to cook some grandeur dinner to kiss our new neighbors' asses, so, he—" I struggled to gather what he said as my mind fluttered off, but I retained most of it. The sight of his obvious discomfort almost made me chuckle, but a smirk played at my lips.

      Levi Ackerman. What an interesting name. Where did it come from? What was his heritage? And he has the same last name as her. Were they related somehow? Did he ever say where he was from?

      I shook my head at the thought, bringing myself back to the present. "Hey, did you hear me?" he said.

      I blinked, staring at him. "No," I said honestly.

      He scoffed. "Of course not. I asked if you could hold on, I forgot something," he apparently repeated.

      I shrugged. "I mean, sure," I said, and he rolled his eyes before turning around and heading in the direction of the broth.

    I watched him as he walked away, trailing my eyes down his body. He wore a dark, forest green turtleneck sweater, tucked into black jeans that loosely hugged his legs, and paired with the same black boots he wore on his first day at school. He sure has a particular fashion-sense. The thought of his consistency brought an odd, tiny smile to my face.

      I watched him browse the broth isle from my checkout lane, eyes curious, but a sudden, familiar voice pulled me away. "Hey!"

      I turned to see the same girl from earlier, who had checked out just before Levi showed up. I tried to fight the flush that threatened to rise to my cheeks upon remembering her thoughts, but she probably read my reaction wrong, because she examined my face before biting her glossy bottom lip.

      "So, um, I couldn't leave before asking." She paused, laughing awkwardly to herself "Could I... have your number? Maybe we can get to know each other?" She leaned her weight on one foot and hugged her torso with her arms—something that would have otherwise depicted her as shy. But if I knew one thing just from reading her mind once, she was everything but shy.

      "Yeah, uh... no thank you," I said. She looked utterly taken aback, her blue eyes wide, and before they could jerk to the ground I took the opportunity to read her mind.

      'Oh my god, that's so embarrassing. Shit, Emily, you should have worn your tube top! Fuck November! Ugh!'

      I glanced at her chest, which was concealed by a black sweater and a cotton trench coat. Glancing back up to her face, her cheeks had heated to a deep, shameful red. "O-Okay, sorry!" she stuttered before fleeing from the store without a moment's hesitation.

      I almost snorted, my lips pursed in amusement, before a voice cut in. "God, that was abysmal." Levi had returned, though I wasn't sure exactly when, and added two new containers of broth to the conveyor belt.

      Though I couldn't quite pinpoint why, something lit up within me upon knowing he had witnessed me turn the girl down. Maybe it was the fact that I had proven him wrong.

      "Surprised?" I asked as I continued bagging his items.

      He raised an eyebrow. "Not quite. But she was pretty. Why'd you reject her?" Though the question seemed innocent, I could see the glint of interest in his silver eyes.

      "I'm not interested in petty hookups," I said impulsively. Levi looked up at me this time, his eyebrows pinching together.

      "How would you know she was looking for a petty hookup? That's pretty sexist, is it not?"

      I was rendered silent, blinking as my mouth opened and closed like a fish. "I–well, no, it was just a hunch," I said, though I wasn't sure why I was getting so defensive. It didn't matter what he thought.

      He raised an eyebrow, humming shortly. The curt reaction stirred frustration in my chest.

      An impulsive thought gripped me. What is he thinking of you right now? You can find out.

      No. I challenged myself. I wasn't going to read his mind. It's only been two days, I can't give in already.

      Fuck, this is going to be hard.

      "Seventy-three eighty-eight," I mumbled when I had scanned the last item. He dug through his small black bag on the cart's seat and pulled out a black wallet. He handed me four twenty-dollar bills before standing idly. Silence curled between us. I knew I was pouting, but I didn't really care. When I risked a glance at him, I was shocked to see a tiny smirk curling the corner of his lips.

      "What's so funny?" I snapped. His smirk deepened, and he crossed his arms over his chest as I gathered his change.

      "I really riled you up there, didn't I?" he said.

      I scoffed. "Well, you did call me sexist, so," I stated drily. I wasn't even sure why that had even offended me. I'd been called worse things. It was the way it fell off his tongue. It was because it came from him.

      He shrugged. "Well, don't assume a person has the worst intentions and I won't assume particularly undesirable traits about you," he said casually.

      Was my comment about a hookup really an assumption? The first thing she imagined upon seeing me was having sex. I was safe to assume that was all she was interested in, right?

      Nevertheless, I sighed. "Fair point." I couldn't give any further insight as to why I thought she just wanted to hookup without it either being senseless or hinting toward my ability. I gave him his change back—our fingers brushed as he took it from me, and for some reason, I lingered on the touch. He didn't seem to notice, and he slid the money back into his wallet.

      I swallowed. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't want our conversation to end the way it had.

      Proving him wrong. That's my goal here, right? Proving that I'm not the person he assumes I am.

      "Those are quite a few bags—the vegetables are pretty heavy. Do you want me to help you to your car?" The words felt so odd on my tongue. I never helped people, I stuck to myself and rarely extended a hand. Why did I feel the need to change that with him?

      There was a simple answer. I needed to win this challenge between us.

      He eyed me with a raised eyebrow, his gaze trailing up and down my body before meeting my eyes. "There are five bags. Do I look like a damsel in distress to you?" Though the words seemed harsh, his tone whispered amusement.

      I smirked, shrugging my shoulders. "Well, I am sexist, so," I teased, and he snorted, rolling his eyes.

      "You got me there. Fine, I'll let you help. Not because I can't do it; but because it's cute seeing you try so hard."

      I barely noticed that my own eyes had momentarily widened at the comment.

      Cute? He said it was cute?

      "Maybe I should let you carry them yourself, it might have been cute seeing you struggle all the way to your car," I quickly retorted. Our eyes met, there was a challenging glint in his, an opal glimmer of something that wasn’t from the fluorescent overhanging lights of the market.

      His lips soon curled into a tiny smirk. It seemed like he was going to say something else, but he shook his head. "Just grab the damn bags," he grumbled, looking away.

      I found myself grinning, my chest swelling with excitement. For some reason, his compliance in letting me help and the shift in our interaction greatly inflated my mood. It was a sudden, rapid change, and I knew I could only blame my BPD for it, but I wasn't complaining. It was somewhat of a relief from my usual dim mood and the tension at home.

      I grabbed three of the heaviest ones with a bit too much eagerness while he took the remaining two. I closed my checkout lane and turned to my co-worker, who worked two lanes from mine.

      "Ayanne," I called. She turned around to look at me with a raised eyebrow that reeked of preemptive judgment. "I'm going out to his car to help him with these bags," I said.

      She eyed Levi with a quick once-over and rolled her eyes before turning back to her register.

      I shook my head with a smirk at her attitude. I'd been working at this supermarket since I was sixteen, and she had trained me. She was a hardass with a bitchy exterior, and sometimes had some questionable but accurate-to-her-background thoughts, though she had a soft heart where it counted.

      With a shrug at Levi's questioning glance, we left the store. Levi walked in front of me, and I eyed his swaying black hair from where I towered above him. He really is short.

      I huffed a breath through my nose at the thought. "What's so funny?" he asked suspiciously, and I pursed my lips. He's pretty intuitive.

      "I'm just laughing at how short you are," I said. He stopped in his tracks right in front of me, and I would have slammed into his back if I hadn't caught myself in time.

      He slowly turned his head until his burning glare met mine. The intensity of his offended stare bored into my eyes, and I almost burst out laughing right then and there. The sight of me teetering on the edge of falling apart seemed to make him even more furious.

      With a scoff, he shoved his two bags into my arms. I scrambled to carry all five before anything dropped, and slipped in a hint of Telekinesis to keep one from toppling over. I managed to get all five between both hands, and I smiled. "Okay, I deserved that," I admitted through a chuckle, and he rolled his eyes before continuing to walk to his car empty-handed.

      He pulled out a pair of black car keys out of his bag as we headed through the parking lot. I eyed it and noticed it had a tag with an engraved name that glimmered beneath the sun. Kenny, it read. "Who's Kenny?" I asked curiously.

      He eyed his keys, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at me in his peripheral. "Why, don't you have a keen eye?" he said dryly. "He's my uncle. I'm borrowing his car."

      "Oh." I didn't push any further after that. Instead, I looked up when I heard a faint beep just ahead. We came upon a low and sleek black car. It was a Ford GT, and by the looks of the modern style, the model couldn't be older than a few years.

      I tried not to envy the fact that Levi had a license. I didn't have one, as I wasn't 'mentally stable enough to drive yet,' according to my parents and my all-knowing psychiatrist, Dr. Clark. Luckily, the supermarket was just around the corner from my house, so I had always walked.

      I had considered going behind their backs and getting one, as it wouldn't have been the first time I did such a thing, though getting a tattoo in one afternoon was a little less time-consuming and mentally costing than learning how to drive in secret.

      "You look like you want to fuck my uncle's car right now." Levi's voice cut through my train of thought.

      I snapped my head to him with a surprised, open-mouthed smile. "I do not!" I said.

      He let out an amused huff. "Whatever you say. Here, just put them in the trunk." He clicked a button on the key fob and the back popped open. The space was tiny since sports cars weren't really known for their storage, but I lifted all five bags and plopped them in there where I could.

    He shot another glare at me, and I shrugged. He sighed before rearranging the bags so they weren't a mess. I rolled my eyes with a small smirk at his notable perfectionism.

      He closed the trunk and sighed again. "Alright, I should head back before he thinks I've been abducted and sends out a search party," he said.

      I snorted. "Is he that protective?" I couldn't help the teasing tone in my voice.

       He rolled his eyes. "More like paranoid. That man thinks everything is out to get us, I swear."

      For some reason, hearing more about his uncle piqued my interest. "Do you live with him?" I didn't want to get too invested, but he hadn't mentioned any parents yet, and I was growing increasingly curious about his background.

      He nodded, though he didn't keep eye contact as he glanced at the keys dangling in his hand. "Yeah; always have," he said simply.

      My eyebrows twitched into a quick furrow at the implication. "Oh, sorry," I muttered. I tried to be tactful, though I was worried it had fallen flat, as it tended to.

      Levi didn't seem to mind either way. "No reason for you to be sorry. He's a maniac, though. I wish my neighbors luck tonight, whoever they are." He shook his head in what appeared to be exasperation.

      "He hasn't told you?" I asked.

      He shook his head. "Nope," he said, popping the 'p.'

      "Alright, I really have to go. I'll see you on Monday, Mr. Not Impulsive," he said as he rounded the car with a smirk. I squinted my eyes at him. "If I even decide to go, Mr. Not Presumptuous," I bit back.

      He scoffed, but his broadened smirk spoke of his amusement. "You're something else, Eren." I had barely caught the comment as he had slid into the driver's seat, but when I registered it, I bit my bottom lip.

      It wasn't the first time I'd heard those words—my mother had told me the same thing more times than I could count in an exhausted tone.

      Though the way he'd said them carried a different feeling, one that whispered a sense of intrigue.

༄༄࿐

      "I'm home," I drawled as I shut the door behind me. It was the weekend, so I didn't have school, but work still sucked every string of life from within me. Standing there, helping customer after customer, doing one thing besides the occasional stocking shelves 'break'—as my manager liked to call it.

      My bones constantly itched for more; my brain sometimes went on overdrive with the desire for a more mentally stimulating job, but I couldn't 'push my limits,' as my psychiatrist always said. When I had first announced I wanted to get a job, my mother immediately limited me to the occupation with the lowest risk imaginable—retail. Sometimes I felt like I was going to snap and go bat-shit insane in front of that register.

      That'd be a funny story.

      I headed into the living room where my mom was lounging in one corner of our L-shaped couch. It was a soft, warm gray, joined by my dad's beloved deep brown recliner adjacent from it—a classic dad staple. A large chestnut coffee table atop a black rectangular base rested in the center, a fluffy rug made up of an assembly of complimentary colors, such as beige, brown, and gray, taking up most of the floor. Our stone mantle at the front of the room was meticulously decorated with various family pictures and potted plants, our flatscreen TV resting above it. In front of the mantle were two more lounge chairs for guests that were never used.

      Only one lamp was turned on, dimmed just to the right of my mom, which illuminated the book in her hand.

    "How was work?" she asked from the couch, resting it down on her lap.

      "Whatever," I mumbled, even though it definitely wasn't whatever—between that horny woman and Levi. Not that she'd want to hear about the former.

      She sighed at my response. The house was always tense, but the atmosphere had been dreadfully suffocating ever since the fire. The new stove had been installed the day after it happened, the evidence of any damage merely existed by a faint scorching on the beige wall the stove was pushed against, though my mom was merely waiting for the beige wall paint she'd ordered online to arrive. Soon, that subtle gray burn would be gone, too, and everything would appear okay again.

      Yet, the aftermath of the event still hung heavily in the air. It seeped through the disdainful way words were spoken, in the particularly deeper furrow between my mother's brow, in the odd look my father would have when he looked at the new stove. They all served to remind each of us of the abnormality that existed in our household. Myself.

      I made a beeline through the living room and attempted to head straight to the stairs, though my mom's voice cut through the air, halting my steps. "Wait, Eren," she said.

      "Whaaat?" I failed to prevent the annoyed whine that came impulsively as I turned around to face her from the bottom of the stairs.

      She scoffed. "Seriously? What are you, five?" she reprimanded. I pursed my lips, shutting my eyes. So many words hung on my tongue, but with a deep breath and every rigid bone in my body, I held them back.

      "What is it, my dearest mother?" I forced out in a painfully polite tone. She shot me a deadpanned stare. I wanted to topple over the glass of cranberry juice she had atop a coaster on our expensive oak coffee table, and I had to quickly look away from it as it started to quiver. As amusing as her reaction would have been, I wasn't in the mood to fan the flames this time around.

      "We have new neighbors that just arrived down the block last week. A man and his nephew. I ran into the man this morning while he was walking his wolf hound—massive thing—and he invited us over for dinner tonight. Apparently it's tradition in his family. Anyway, you're coming." She didn't leave room for rejection, but that wasn't what had caught my attention.

      There's no way.

      I tightly pursed my lips on a smirk that threatened to take over my expression. "What? What's that look for?" She eyed my lips with a quirked eyebrow.

      "Does this man's name happen to be Kenny?" I asked knowingly.

      Her expression hardened into something that reeked of suspicion. "Yes... why? What did you do?" As usual, she had immediately assumed the worst.

      I let out a faint, exhausted chuckle. "Jesus Christ, mom. I didn't do anything. I just know his nephew, he transferred to Sina." The thought of him caused a sense of excitement to bubble in my chest, though I wasn't quite sure why.

      She sighed in what seemed like relief, though she rested her elbow on the back of the couch and leaned her head against her fist. "Did you finally make a friend?" she asked softly.

      I scoffed. "Wow, rude. And... not really? He's kind of a dick," I said.

      She narrowed her eyes at my chin. "Language," she mumbled, and I rolled my eyes. "You're not getting into trouble, are you?" she asked next. Her voice was subdued with a quiet worry, carrying a faint rasp that I only just noticed.

      I shoved my hands into my pockets. "When do I ever?" I said with a sarcastic sense of confidence.

      She was everything but amused, a frown curling her lips. "I'm serious, Eren," she quietly replied.

      I sighed through a meek frown, suddenly feeling smaller than I was. "No, mom, I'm not," I said truthfully. My voice barely carried over the air, and she pursed her lips before nodding once and turning back to her book.

      "Dinner is at six. We're leaving at 5:50," was all she said next.

      "Aye, aye, captain," I mumbled before turning and treading up the stairs. When I arrived at my room, closing the door behind me I glanced at my alarm clock. I had three hours to kill.

      My room wasn't scarcely decorated, but it wasn't an abundance of personality. I had one old Pierce The Veil poster still up from when I was in middle school—the corners were worn and curled. I had a $uicideBoy$ poster above my desk in much better condition, and a shelf of very few Funko Pop's from a discontinued collection I had started in my Freshman year. My furniture was a few shades darker than the brown wooden floor that carried through most of the house, but my mom had thrown a gray patterned rug over the area beneath my bed to protect it.

       I looked around from where I stood by my bed, eyeing the dirty clothes on the floor lying about three feet away from the hamper.

      Shrugging, I shuffled over to my PlayStation and turned it on, watching the blue light illuminate in the afternoon-lit room before plopping down on my giant gray beanbag. It had a perfect molding of my body after years of being broken into, and I sunk into the formation with weightless limbs and a contented sigh.

      I glanced at my controller on the TV stand and brought it to me with ease, letting it fall into my hands. My grip felt just right as my fingers curled around the perfect shape of the plastic handles. Time to be lazy for the next three hours. This was all anyone asked for after a grueling day at the most boring job in the world.

      As I launched Final Fantasy XV, I sank into a muddled contemplation. What were the odds that we ended up being the neighbors Levi was talking about? It seemed like ever since he'd arrived, the universe had been forcing us to interact. It was obviously pure coincidence, but this had been the most socialization I'd had with anyone other than my parents since... them.

      I begun to imagine how the upcoming dinner would unfold, how Levi's uncle, Kenny, was based on the eccentric traits Levi described him with. I wondered with a faint smile what Levi's reaction would be to knowing I was his infamous neighbor.

      I wondered how my parents would behave, how much of a mask they'd wear and what they'd say about me, the lies they would tell.

      The outcome of tonight was merely three short hours away, hours that would soon land me on the doorstep of Levi's new home, and I found myself itching for time to fly by.

      Before I clicked on my save file, I checked my phone. A memory quickly slammed into me like a semi, screeching me to a sense of realization and some odd sense of relief.

      I unlocked it and clicked on my gallery. Quickly scrolling to the bottom of the screen, I opened my trash folder.

      The newest addition was a familiar photo, one I had taken impulsively, one that marked the beginning of an interaction I hadn't expected to evolve into what it had become. I clicked on it, expanding the picture of Levi submerged in a blue sweatshirt and black cargo pants.

      I examined the photo again. His delicate features, the softness of his fingers peeking over the oversized sleeve, the way they pressed against his porcelain cheek. His uncanny and curious gaze, the way it lingered on the camera for a split second, one that I caught just before it had twisted into something shocked.

      My finger hovered over the button, an odd sensation meeting me. It was unfamiliar, yet carried with it a sense of anticipation that threatened to simmer to the surface. The intrigue was something new, something raw, and mildly intimidating. It was as if a seed had been planted, and my finger was the dictatorship over its need for water.

      And I pressed down, restoring the photo.

Chapter Text

TenSoon

      I was already ready by the time my mom knocked on my door, which greatly surprised her. "Eren–" she began before pausing her ungraceful barge into my room. Giving me a once-over, her eyes went wide as she stood in the doorway. "Oh!" Her expression went from surprised to displeased in a matter of milliseconds, and she sagged with annoyance.

      "Jeez, Eren, you've outdressed me and even your father. Are you trying to make fun of us for taking this seriously? Because it's not funny." She tossed her hand into the air and gestured to my outfit.

      "What? What's wrong with this?" I exclaimed through a chuckle, looking down at myself with outstretched arms.

      I wore an ironed dark gray button down, which hugged my body nicely and had sleeves that cut off halfway down my biceps. I paired it with black slacks that I hadn't worn since they were pressed for homecoming—thankfully they were a little long at the time—and black dress shoes that I had scrubbed until they shined under the light. I had even assembled together a black tie, which I had to rewatch a YouTube video three times to achieve. To complete the look, my hair was combed back and tied into a neat bun that, for once, I hadn't just tossed together.

      My mom scoffed. "Your father is wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt with a nice coat, and he's a doctor," she stated as if it was discovered in the catacombs. "And as always, he has his hair out. Look at me!" she added. She wasn't dressed much different, dressed in a simple blue flowery top with boring beige jeans. "What are you, our attorney? Change," she demanded.

      I smirked, pushing my thumbs into my silky slack pockets. "No, this is what I want to wear," I said calmly, my sleek smirk growing.

      Appalled, she stared at my chest, mouth agape  and eyes squinted as if she was trying to decipher an equation written by Einstein.

      She soon shook her head, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips. "Where was this enthusiasm for your father's dinner parties?" she mumbled under her breath, as if more so to herself than to me, before turning and facing the hall. "If you say so. Prepare to stick out like a sore thumb. Hopefully Kenny and his nephew don't think I'm trying to raise some stick-in-the-mud son. Come on, we're leaving."

      I could have jumped and clicked my heels at her submission, biting my lip as I followed her out of my room. I'm sure Levi thinks I'm everything but a stick-in-the-mud.

      I Telekinetically shut my bedroom door behind me, making sure my phone was tucked in one pocket and my wallet in the other, just in case.

      As we neared the end of the hallway and met the top of the stairs, Mom suddenly turned around. She stared at my chest, which was level with her eyes, carrying an almost troubled expression. "Eren, while we are there, I just have one request from you," she began.

      My mind immediately ran a mile a minute with guesses of what she could ask, a slew of scenarios cluttering my broken train of thought. The most realistic one lay at the front, and she confirmed my suspicion when her low voice returned.

      "Don't use your powers," she said frigidly.

      "Absolutely riveting, mom. You had me on the edge of my seat," I said dryly, my voice dripping with sarcasm. She sighed with defeat, shutting her eyes for a moment before turning around and beginning to tread down the stairs. "Don't have to worry about me," I said as I followed her.

      "I'm not so sure about that," I caught her mumble, and I huffed a humorless breath through my nose.

      Dad was waiting on the living room couch, browsing on his phone with his golden round glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose. "We're ready, dear. Let me just grab the brownies," my mom said to him. She headed to the kitchen and returned with a glass cookware covered with a sheet of foil, inside being what must have been a dozen chocolate brownies.

      My eyes lit up. "Can I have one now?" I knew I was getting my hopes up, but the sight and smell of them caused my mouth to water.

      My mom scoffed. "You can't wait, what, an hour? Probably less? Just be patient," she said. I glanced from her to the brownies in her arms, excitement surging through my veins, and the foil that covered one corner twitched open with a meek, crumpled curl.

      She immediately froze, and I snorted, throwing my hand over my mouth. I heard a faint sigh from my father behind me. After the initial shock, I slid my hand to my forehead and laughed. "Sorry, I actually didn't mean to do that," I said honestly, grinning from behind her. I hadn't done something like that on accident in years.

      "Dear god. I wish you hadn't just told me that," she whispered under her breath before the three of us met at the front door.

      "Eren, what on earth are you wearing," Dad said, more so as a proclamation of shock rather than a question.

       My mom scoffed, as if she was asked. "Apparently that's just 'what he wants to wear.' I don't know, honey, I already tried to talk him out of it," she responded.

      I smirked at him, and he shook his head with a small chuckle. We stepped out of the house and my mother shut and locked the door behind us. Together, we walked to my father's navy blue SUV, and he slid into the driver's seat while my mother sat in the passenger's and placed the brownies in her lap, and I took the middle seat in the back.

      As November gradually waned, the days were steadily getting more frigid. Sina was a dreary, gray town. We didn't get a ton of snow during the winter, but the sun's mundane rays were rarely powerful enough to break through the thick layer of clouds that blanketed the city throughout the season, and the frequent fluctuation between snow and freezing rain often left an unflattering layer of dirty slush and ice along the roads. Spring and autumn were not much better, though summers tended to be a fleeting hope in the midst of the year that encouraged tourists to at least stay a while.

      It wasn't a small city, but it wasn't massive. It was average. Normal. Our population wasn't grand and the opportunities here were even smaller, but for some reason the loyal residents here proceeded to call it the greatest city in the state—which I failed to ever understand.

      Granted, it had a bit of a rustic feel to it; the buildings were historic and many of the churches gave one that Renaissance vibe a lot of the younger generation either clung to aesthetically or vandalized. Current modernity hadn't quite found its plaguing grasp on our quaint architecture, and maybe that was why keen eyes tended to linger.

      One thing I knew with every fiber of my being was I absolutely wasn't staying here.

      I wasn't quite sure where I wanted to go yet, but I knew I wanted something stimulating. Somewhere I could be free. A bustling city without a moment of rest would loosen the restraints I had around my ankles that rooted me to this modest ground. I would become a blur in the crowd, but I would have the opportunity to build my own foundation—to mold my own small world that existed in the grand scheme of things where I held control and power, and didn't have to dwell over the naysayers.

      I would meet new people I didn't have negative ties to, who didn't know me or my flaws. I would be a normal man who didn't carry the label Freak or Loner written on their back. I could let go of everything that rotted my past, the rejection, the playhouse facade—all of the bullshit in my current life.

      It would be a fresh start, finally untethered from the chokehold my home had around me. Hey, maybe I’d live my childhood dream and become a CSI agent who secretly used his powers to do some good in the world.
      I almost chuckled to myself. As if.

      As we drove down the short blocks that connected our home with Levi's, my mother cut through the silence. "This is our chance to set a good reputation with a new neighbor. Everyone else has been living here for years, and god only knows what they think of us. Imagine what Kenny will say when he meets anyone else on the block? 'I've met the Jaeger's, they're so pleasant and kind,'" she drawled on, swinging her hand to her side. My father chuckled quietly from the driver's seat.

      I scoffed. "What are you going to do if one of them says, 'What, the Jaegers? That family is insane. We're pretty sure they used to abuse their son, we've heard screaming and–" my parents' sudden yelling quickly interrupted. "Stop Eren, stop! Jeez," my mother exclaimed simultaneously as my father said, "Come on, Eren." I snickered quietly.

      We arrived at the Ackermans' home a few moments later. It was one of the more quaint houses in our suburban area, but I was at least self-aware enough to admit that our home was one of the largest. They lived in a cul de sac to the west of our neighborhood, the wide and round stretch of land residing four homes of similar stature and color.

      We pulled into the clean driveway of the second one. It had a renovated, well-kept appearance. The walls were made of a gray-blue wood, but a stone foundation laid the bottom of the structure. It had a dark pointed roof with white trimmings, and a white front door to match. The porch was scarcely decorated, a couple of plain chairs and a small table adorning it. It was shadowed by an overhang and lined by a white fence and supported by stone pillars.

      It was a very 'fresh' house, which made sense considering it hadn't been lived in for long. While I wasn't sure what Levi's home would look like, for some reason the darker and traditional appearance suited him—and even though inevitably it wasn't his choice, I had this sixth sense that his uncle was quite similar to him in certain ways.

      My mother took a deep breath and let it out with a heavy sigh when my father shut off the engine, gaining our attention. "Let's just make a good impression, and not do or say anything too weird. It's just one guy and his nephew. It shouldn't be too hard, right?" She turned to look at Dad with a glimmer of pleading hope in her hazel eyes.

     He huffed an amused breath through his nose. "It'll be fine, dear. We aren't aliens; we know how to get along with people," he assured as if they were about to solve an equation for a five-year-old.

      But instead of his words relaxing her, Mom turned in her seat to glower at my chest. "What?!" I exclaimed, though I knew my grin said enough.

      We hadn't been on good terms with any of our neighbors since I could form a coherent sentence. It was a gradual change—the slight smiles from Kathy two houses away dwindling until they became unwelcoming frowns, the Samson's across the street ushering their children inside before they could lay their eyes on us, eye contact accidentally made with my mom quickly being broken, and all interaction swiftly being avoided at all costs.

      There were of course the odd and uncomfortable years after I turned three where the parents of the neighborhood couldn't understand why I couldn't play with their kids, why I wasn't let outside, why I couldn't come to little Timmy's fourth birthday party. My mom always said I was sick, which not many believed—or, some believed it to the extent that it was rumored I had a terminal illness. That particular assumption obviously flew out the window once everyone witnessed me emerge from the house throughout the years completely healthy.

      But when the fights and the episodes they led to began, it only got worse.

      My mom had tried to explain to some of the more concerned who had asked questions early on that I had been diagnosed with IED—though it did little to soothe their worries. Having to call the police on your neighbors multiple times rarely established a pleasant foundation or eased conversations. A simple "Hi, Janice, how was your day?" wouldn't have sufficed after several reports of screaming and destruction coming from our house were made.

      When my BPD presented itself on top of it all, my early teenage years had become so terrible and the fights so frequent that the police department asked for the last name of the family our neighbors were reporting, and didn't even bother showing up the moment Jaeger was heard. Which, now that I thought about it, was pretty irresponsible of them. 'Cause, what if I was dying one day? But they had sent officers to our doorstep so many times, only to hear the same story over and over again and see that I wasn’t physically hurt, that they probably felt it was a waste of effort to keep coming.

      My parents stopped being able to reasonably explain to the neighbors the sounds of smashing glass and booming noises—the screaming that led to it and the tantrums amid the chaos. I knew I was a troubled child, but there wouldn't ever exist a day where I would take the blame for it. Year after year, as my voice matured and our neighbors could listen to my rationale instead of incomprehensible, high-pitched screaming, they had to have come to the conclusion that it wasn't just I who was the problem.

      I could tell it hurt my mom, learning one day that she no longer could call her neighbors friends, to admit that Jacob next door refused to speak to her anymore, or Frank stopped discussing the newest newspaper headlines with my father on the lawn. Apparently they were the newly admired couple of the neighborhood when they had first moved in, invited to every potluck and birthday party. Supposedly I was the talk of the block when I was born and adored during my toddler years. But our happy-suburban-home-life didn't last very long, and people quickly turned away from us when they learned just how dysfunctional we'd become.

      My mom wouldn't admit that it was their parenting at the root of it—to her, she had done nothing wrong, ever, so she ceased to make a change, even at the expense of her neighborly friendships.

      She had her book club, crotchet hooks, crunchy mom groups, and the clinic nurses to be buddy-buddy with.

      I didn't understand why we couldn't just move now that I was older, but whenever the topic was sparsely brought up between my parents, Mom would say there wasn't a neighborhood more convenient in terms of location and quality, and she had fallen in love with the place during her many years of homemaking and couldn't bare to part with it. I supposed she preferred convenience and perfection over her social standing.

      Though maybe she thought this would be a chance to make things right.

      "Let's go," my dad said, and we slid out of the car and onto the crisp gray pavement, patterns of a recent paint job evident on the surface.

      "It's a nice place," my mom commented sincerely, her hands clasped around either side of the brownie dish, and my father hummed—though there was a sense of superiority in his tone I wanted to roll my eyes at. He didn't care about what the neighbors thought of them as much as Mom did, as he was egotistical enough to look past it and revel in his success, but I knew he was here to make an impression for my mother's sanity.

      When we climbed the three steps that led to the porch, I stood behind my parents at the front door. My dad knocked, and a sudden, booming bark rang through the house. My mom flinched beside me, and I huffed a small laugh. As we waited, I begun to feel a sense of anticipation simmer in my bones all over again. I couldn't wait to see Levi's reaction to knowing we were the neighbors.

      Only a few seconds passed before the door swung open. And just as I had hoped, it was Levi, standing at my mother's height of five feet and three inches, looking between us.

      His expression was calm and composed, expecting his average neighbors to have appeared at his door, but I watched his eyes widen within a split second once they landed on my head between my parents.

      My grin deepened into something sly, and he immediately tried to conceal any reaction he had and feigned indifference. "Oh, you must be the Jaegers. Come in," he said, obviously forcing a cordial tone. I heard the biting sound in our last name—a snarky jab at me.

      "Y–Yes! You must be Kenny's nephew," my mom quickly said.

      Levi nodded. "Levi," he said simply.

      My mom and dad shared a fleeting look before they stepped through the doorway once Levi moved to the side. I walked in behind them, and behind my parent's back I watched him send a piercing, disbelieving glare at me. I winked at him, mocking the time he'd winked during gym.

      He rolled his eyes, but when they centered on me again I watched them trail down my chest, which was clad in the form-fitting shirt. I bit my lip smugly, and he crossed his arms with a scoff but looked away.

      "You look stupid," he mumbled, too quiet for my parents to hear, who were looking around.

      "No, I don't think I do," I said confidently. I knew I looked good. He rolled his eyes again, so hard I worried they would tumble out of his sockets, and I chuckled.

      He was wearing the same light blue sweater that drowned his body when we first met, the sleeves almost at his fingertips. Something told me it was his favorite—he appeared so comfortable in it. Gray street-styled cargo pants with a slew of zippers and decorative belts accompanied it, but white socks covered his small feet.

      I wasn't going to tell him this, because his ego didn't need to be inflated any further, but baggy and oversized clothing suited his size so well. There was just something about it—it was so much better than skintight.

      To distract myself from the thought, I took a moment to gaze at the interior of the house. It was minimally decorated, as if they hadn't brought much with them when they moved.

      The walls were painted a light blue-gray, only a few shades lighter than the outside, and the floor was a dark wood that ran through the entryway and to what I could see of the hallway and living room ahead. A few pictures littered the walls, but they were mostly basic paintings of objects or flowers. I glanced at the mantle to the right of the entryway, and I saw two framed photos side-by-side. One was of a woman who looked almost identical to Levi, only with long hair, smiling with eyes trained just above the camera. It made me realize how feminine Levi looked, but I tried not to dwell on that sudden thought. The other photo was of a small gray puppy in a blanket.

      As I was about to open my mouth to comment on them, our attention was suddenly jerked elsewhere when a humongous gray form came trotting up to us.

      The Irish wolfhound my mom mentioned had announced its presence. It had to have been over three feet tall while on all fours, and I could easily see its head reaching above my dad's if it stood up on its hind legs. It had long, gray, scraggly fur that looked more like a shag carpet, along with huge paws, which had big black nails that clicked against the floor as it walked. Tufts of its gray fur stuck out above its eyes and draped over its lids, making it look like it had eyebrows. It barked at us, a deep, booming noise, and its long scruffy tail wagged behind it. My mom cursed under her breath.

      "Shush," Levi commanded, and the giant thing looked up at him with big hazel orbs. I imagined it could easily overpower Levi at any second if it chose to.

      "This is TenSoon. He's all bark, so no worries," Levi assured. My father stepped forward first, exuding confidence. "Good boy," he said proudly, barely leaning down and inch before patting the dog's large head. I caught Levi eye him oddly for a moment before looking away.

      My mother entirely avoided him, going to the side of me furthest from the animal. I was indifferent toward dogs, so I gave it a once-over before Levi started to guide us to the kitchen.

      When I passed TenSoon, however, a booming bark echoed in the room. I turned to see him looking up at me, his hazel stare boring into my own. It almost looked challenging. I raised an eyebrow, my hands tucked into my pockets, and he barked again. "Hey, stop it," Levi snapped, weakly tugging his collar back. TenSoon budged, but didn't break his stare with mine. Suddenly, his black lips pulled back, and he growled deeply at me.

      "All bark, huh?" I said with suspicion as I looked at Levi curiously.

      He frowned, glancing between the dog and me with his eyebrows drawn together. "He never does this," he mumbled, and I hummed in confusion. "Come on. Out," Levi commanded, snapping his fingers behind him. TenSoon growled again, but turned around and trotted toward the living room.

      "That thing is terrifying," I heard my mom whisper behind me. But while everyone else shrugged it off, I lingered on the comment Levi had made. 'He never does this.' I frowned at the dog as he distanced himself, but turned and headed to the kitchen as Levi began to guide us, attempting to distract myself from the oddity.

      As we passed the living room, which was minimally decorated, I noticed a few half-unpacked boxes. Though they seemed to be organized in one concrete location in the corner.

      We entered the kitchen, which was a large room with a dining table taking up one half, and the man who was supposedly Levi's uncle, Kenny, was standing in front of the stove. "They're here," Levi mumbled, and surprisingly Kenny heard him despite his low tone. The man jerked his head toward us, and my jaw almost dropped onto the floor. He was the spitting image of Levi, only older, with slight crow’s feet and faint lines around his mouth. His hair, the same jet-black as Levi's, fell over his shoulders, almost the length of my own. He looked very similar to the woman in the photograph—just in male form. These genes are pretty damn powerful. If I hadn't known Kenny was his uncle, I would have immediately assumed he was his dad.

      His eyes were as silver as Levi's, and they blinked at us before crinkling in the corners with a grin.

      "Ahhh, if it isn't my favorite new neighbors! You caught me at an awkward time, I'm just pulling the casserole out of the oven. My timing was a little off, but go ahead and have a seat, it'll be ready in just a sec.'" His voice was deep and slightly gravely, as if he had a history of smoking, but it was passionate and hearty. And as I took in his outfit, I realized the rest of him everything but grating.

      He wore a white button-down with black pants that hung loosely on his legs and were a little too long despite his evident height. White socks covered his feet that shuffled smoothly over the tile, but on top of it all, a blue frilly apron was tied around his waist, which had Mr. Good Lookin' Is Cookin' in bold capital letters on the front of it.

      I struggled to hold in a laugh, and my mom subtly smacked me on the shoulder. "I brought brownies," she said awkwardly, holding up the glass.

      Kenny smiled wider and gestured to the table. "Aren't I lucky? Go ahead and set them down anywhere," he said. My mother quietly cleared her throat and shoved it wherever there was room before we chose our seats at the table. It seemed like Kenny's was already established, as a small glass of amber liquid sat on one end of the table. My dad took the other end, my mom sat on the right side of him, and I decided to sit on the left. Levi slid into his seat to the right of me, and we simultaneously turned our heads to look at each other.

      My expression reeked of smugness, and he scoffed, folding his hands together on top of the table. "Who would have known my mysterious neighbor was you of all people," he said quietly.

      I grinned. "I could say the same. You should have seen my face when my mom told me when I got home," I replied in a low tone. I could feel my parents' gaze boring into me as we spoke. I was looking into Levi's eyes—there was no doubt they assumed I was reading his mind. I wondered how they'd react if they knew about my personal declaration.

      "I'm sure you were absolutely ecstatic," Levi replied with a small smirk, and I chuckled lightly. "Something like that," I teased.

      "Does anybody want a drink? Levi, get our guests some drinks," Kenny said without turning toward us. Levi sighed and stood up.

      "Oh, just water is fine for me, dear," my mom said with a wave of her hand.

      Levi nodded then turned to my dad. "The same, please," he said simply. Levi turned to me, and I could see the shift in his gaze.

      "Can I have what he's having?" I said with a smirk, pointing to the alcohol at Kenny's seat.

      Levi scoffed and my mom scolded me. "I'm getting you water," he said with a deadpan expression. I watched as he rounded the table and grabbed four glasses. He filled each one with tap water in silence as his uncle finished up next to him before making two trips with a glass in each hand.

      "Such good service," I teased as he sat back down with his own glass, and he rolled his eyes. I caught the sound of my mom whispering something to my dad beside me, but it was too quiet to make out.

      Kenny placed the casserole in the center of the dining table, his hands clad in thick flowery mittens. I pursed my lips on a smile at the sight. While I had initially assumed Levi and his uncle would be similar, despite the almost uncanny resemblance, they seemed to contrast each other personality-wise like night and day.

      He removed his mittens, begun untying his apron and gestured to the food. "Alright everyone, grab a plate, dig in; there's plenty to go around," he said boisterously, gesturing to the food. "This is a delicious ground beef casserole; it was my grandmother's recipe. This here is mashed cauliflower—" he started naming off all of the dishes, but I struggled to focus on everything that was named. "This is an amazing artichoke dip I made from scratch, collard greens with bacon, can't have a Thanksgiving without it—" it wasn't Thanksgiving yet, but nobody mentioned that. The casserole was covered with a layer of deep yellow cheese, and a few pale noodles could be seen peeking out from under it.

      Honestly, everything looked delicious, and my stomach growled at the sight of it all.

      Kenny sat down at the head of the table and took a sip of his glass of liquor as everyone started to plate their food. I grabbed a little bit of everything, familiar with most of it as my mom had experimented a lot over the years. Once our plates were filled, my mom broke the silence. "Oh, Kenny, this is my husband, Grisha, and my son, Eren," she said, gesturing to us.

      "About time," I heard my dad grumble under his breath, and I snorted.

      Kenny grinned, swirling the liquid in his glass with a slow turn of his hand as he propped one elbow on the table. "Of course, of course. Nice to meet you both. Do you go to Sina High too, Eren?" His silver eyes trained on me, and the sudden urge to infiltrate his mind overwhelmed me. It became so apparent that I had to clench my fist on my lap to ground myself.

      Reading Kenny's mind would almost be like reading Levi's. Levi has lived with him all his life; they're like two halves of a whole. That would be considered cheating, right?

      I suddenly felt a kick to my knee, and I jolted back to the present, as if a puppet yanked back to life by a string. "Oh, uh, yes. I do," I quickly said. Kenny didn't seem to mind the odd stretch of silence from my lack of initial response. I caught Levi raising an eyebrow beside me in my peripheral, and I turned to him. "You mean Levi hasn't talked about me yet?" I teased with a smirk.

      Levi scoffed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he bit back. Kenny gave us a slight, downturned smile.

      My mom ignored our teasing and spoke up next. "And you're attending there too now, Levi? Are you in your first year?" I almost spit out my drink all over the table.

      An awkward silence fell over the room, and after forcing myself to swallow, almost choking in the process, I burst into laughter. Even Kenny started chuckling, hiding his grin behind his glass before taking a sip. Levi cleared his throat, and I could see his grip tighten around his cup of water. "I'm a senior, actually..." he said matter-of-factly, his voice low and tone clearly holding back something I could only imagine was snarky, and I quickly turned to watch my mom’s expression grow shocked and embarrassed.

      "O-Oh! I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed..." she quickly stuttered. I could witness her olive tone flushing a coral pink.

      Kenny waved his free hand. "Eh, he gets it all the time. Should have fed him more milk as a kid," Kenny joked, and I laughed louder. I covered my hand with my mouth as I tried to compose myself, but seeing Levi grow livid beside me only fanned the flames.

      "At least I don't think our new neighbor is–"

      "Alright! How's the food, everyone?" Kenny quickly cut him off, and I jerked my head to Levi with wide eyes. What the hell was he just about to say?

      Another stretch of tense silence passed, and my mom took small awkward bites of her food as she shared an odd look with my dad, who purposefully made his sigh audible. "The food is delicious. You cooked it all yourself?" my mom soon asked. I almost snorted. She's trying, at least.

      Kenny nodded, folding his hands together. "That I did. You can thank my grandma for that one. I'm in her debt, cause who knew I'd have to be taking care of this one," he gestured to Levi with a loose hand and a smirk, who looked down at his plate.

      "Why did you guys move to Sina?" my dad asked, one of the first polite sentences he'd said since arriving—if one didn't count greeting the dog.

      Kenny shrugged, though his amused demeanor dimmed, his lips resting plainly. "Just a change of pace, I suppose. Don't think that town was right for either of us, really," he said, glancing at Levi. I had caught onto his odd, subdued tone, which piqued my interest and natural trait for nosiness.

      Don't read his mind. Don't read his mind.

      "But in the middle of senior year? That's quite an adjustment," my mom said, looking at Levi now.

      He chewed and swallowed his small bite of food before responding. "The school I transferred from offered zero programming, and was just all-around horrendous, so I really didn't mind if it meant my opportunities would be better," he said. I decided not to comment on the fact that he probably didn't end up in a better place.

      I began to eat, watching them like a bystander. I started with the casserole, and it tasted delicious.

      My mom nodded. "That makes sense. What are your favorite subjects?" she asked. Levi and I had yet to engage in silly small-talk, since we had initially gotten off on tense footing, so I supposed this was a chance for me to 'get to know him' better, too.

      "Definitely writing; anything to do with language arts, really," Levi quickly said. I smiled softly to myself. That much was obvious based on how engrossed he became in his mysterious notebook, and his advanced vocabulary choice from time-to-time that often took me off guard.

      My mom smiled. She appeared somewhat relieved that she seemed to be making up for her embarrassing slip-up earlier—which I'd never let her live down.

      "There is a nice writing program at Sina High, Mrs. Kurtz is a wonderful English teacher. Sina is the best school in the state, but if you ask this one here you'd definitely hear differently," she said. I watched her jerk a thumb in my direction when referring to me.

      I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Not a fan, Eren?" Kenny asked with a smirk.

      I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. "It's just full of pick-me's and wannabe all-stars," I grumbled.

      Levi raised an eyebrow, and Kenny shrugged. "I'm not gonna pretend I know what that means," he said simply.

      "It means everyone is trying to be different, but is really just like everybody else," Levi said.

      I looked at him, tilting my head slightly. "Yeah, exactly..." I trailed off. Though it was a simplistic statement, it described exactly how I felt.

      He nodded, pursing his lips. "I know what that's like," he mumbled, looking down at his plate.

      I lingered my gaze on him, a peculiar look in my eyes. I attempted to read him from the outside, though I had become so used to being capable of breaching other's minds and stripping away their mask that reading concealed external emotion had become somewhat of a challenge over the years. He was usually entirely upfront with me, so seeing his sudden subdued demeanor caught me off guard.

      Kenny broke the silence. "Eh, teenagers will be teenagers. Everyone's trying to figure life out, so they look at others to make it easier for em'," he said with a shrug. That reasoning sounded stupid to me, but that's because I was petty.

      "That reasoning is stupid," Levi said, and I jerked my head to him with wide eyes. "What?" he bit back defensively when he glanced at my surprised expression.

      I chuckled in disbelief. "Nothing... I also think it's stupid," I said despite the mild shock laced in my voice.

      Kenny waved his hand. "Well then, since you both feel the same way, you boys can go frolicking in the fields and figure life out together," he teased. I snorted and Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes.

      "I'm sure Levi would enjoy that," I jabbed.

      He glared at me. "You wish," he retorted.

      I abruptly stabbed my casserole with my fork and tried to bring it to my mouth, but instead I flung the food to my right and watched in awe as it smacked right onto his cheek.

      I brought my hand to my mouth and burst out into laughter. "Eren, what the hell is wrong with you?" my mom scolded, sounding abashed, and I ignored her to watch Levi's expression settle into fury.

      "I don't know how that happened, honestly," I said through my laughter, a wide grin over my face. Levi shut his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. But before I could open my mouth to apologize, he suddenly grabbed a handful of his artichoke dip and smeared it across the side of my face with a loud smack.

      My mouth fell open in shock. Kenny leaned back in his chair and let out a hearty laugh. I glanced at my mom and she was staring at us with wide eyes above an expression of furious surprise.

      My dad pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. Levi crossed his arms over his chest, and I suddenly shot from my seat and stood up.
      This means war.

      Levi stood up, too. "Eren, sit down!" my mother cried. Kenny just kept laughing. I grabbed a handful of collared greens, prepared to launch it at him, but as soon as I readied my arm to swing, a booming bark sliced through the room.

      Everyone grew silent and simultaneously turned to the doorway. TenSoon was sitting there, his giant form taking up most of the exit. His mouth was closed, front legs straight and paws flat in front of him with his legs on either side of his body.

      And he was staring directly at me.

      I relaxed, dropping my arm beside me with the greens still in my hand. It was an odd slimy texture against my skin, but I tried not to dwell on it as the wolfhound continued to stare me down.

      "Oi, out of the kitchen ," Kenny commanded from the other side of the table. TenSoon didn't budge; he didn't even glance at Kenny. His large eyes, the hazel taking up most of their surface save for the wide pupils in the center, bored directly into mine.

      I raised an eyebrow, and he began to growl. Kenny stood up from his seat—that made three of us. My parents sat in incredibly awkward silence, no doubt thinking the dinner was completely ruined.

      "Oi! Go lay down!" Kenny snapped. Was that the hint of a French accent I just heard? Whether I had imagined it or not, it came and went with the harshness of his demand.

      But TenSoon didn't move. He did stop growling, however, and licked his snout with his large pink tongue instead, which made a wet sloppy noise.

      Everything after that happened in the blink of an eye. I had no time prepare for the giant nearly four-foot-tall dog that suddenly leapt from where he sat and bounded toward me. I yelped, and my parents hurried to stand as the beast grew to nearly seven feet when he abruptly stood on his hind legs.

      "What the fuck!" I cried as he pounced onto me. Large black paws met my chest before a heavy weight crushed onto my body, sending me toppling backward. I gripped the back of my chair with my hand to try to catch myself, which failed miserably as I brought the chair down with myself instead. I fell with a pained grunt, my back colliding with the hard floor. The collared greens were long gone, smeared all over the chair.

      "Oh my god!" my mother exclaimed from somewhere on the other side of the table. I shoved at the giant dog's chest, my senses overwhelmed by the sound of loud sniffing and growling as his snout slid over my face. This dog is about to kill me!

      When I realized he wasn't moving an inch with how hard I tried to shove him, my muscles bulging painfully under the exertion, I knew the dog had to have weighed almost two-hundred pounds. I wouldn't have been able to get him off of me while pushing against gravity without using Telekinesis. But I couldn't be obvious about it. It was all happening so quickly, and between the dog swarming me and the feeling of the artichoke dip still on my skin, I was too overstimulated to figure out what to do next.

      But just as a shadow came over us, Kenny's perturbed expression entering my field of vision, everything seemed to still at once. TenSoon stopped growling, his giant paws stopped crushing me, and he instantly seemed to grow pliant and relaxed. Instead of the threat of large canines sinking into my skin, the feeling of a warm and wet tongue sliding over my face greeted me.

      "Ugh," I groaned in disgust. He started licking the artichoke dip off my face. I squinted my eyes and pursed his lips to prevent his tongue from entering anywhere near them.

      Kenny's face immediately morphed from worried to amused. "I think he just wanted to say hi to you, Eren," he said through a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. I let my arms flop to my sides, allowing the dog to clean my face with an exasperated sigh.

      "Are you okay, Eren?" my mom asked from the other side of the table. The worried tone in her voice almost made me huff a small laugh—I hadn't heard it directed toward me in a while.

      "I'm fine," I said, though I knew it was muffled by TenSoon's massive face. I tried shoving at him again, this time only using a hint of my powers now that I could focus, so it still looked like I was struggling. I tried not to use my Telekinesis on living things anymore—I had a slew of regrets from my childhood that I often wished not to think back on.

      "Here, kitty kitty," I called. The black cat down the road stared at me, but wasn't coming over. I pouted, mad that it was ignoring me. "Come here!" I demanded. It still didn't budge! I hated that cats had a mind of their own and did whatever they wanted.

      I did the only thing that came to mind, Telekinetically yanking it forward and closing the stretch of pavement between us. It yowled and whined, a pained and furious sound as it clawed at the ground, but I didn't stop until it reached my stretched-out hands. It struggled, but I kept it still with my grip, petting its head.

      "Good kitty," I said with a grin.

      I almost shuddered at the memory. I gently nudged TenSoon with Telekinesis while using all of the arm strength I had to get him off. He only made a soft, airy growl in the back of his throat, but finally got off of me. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had done so out of his own volition despite me using both my pure strength and supernatural power.

      Kenny took a step back, raising his dark eyebrows. "Woah! You're strong, kid," he said through a downturned smile. I ignored the comment and groaned as I sat up, one hand planted behind me and the other vigorously wiping at my wet, slimy face. TenSoon towered over my head beside me, panting innocently.

      "That's one way to say hi, I guess," I grumbled, pushing myself up to stand with a heavy sigh. I glanced at my parents, and they were looking me up and down with wide eyes. But there was a hint of amusement glimmering in Mom’s, which I now noticed had a similar color to TenSoon's, and I glared. "Don't laugh, that wasn't funny!" I exclaimed, and she pursed her lips on a poorly hidden smile.

      I turned and looked at Levi, who had been eerily silent. He had sat back down, his chin propped up by his hand, and was smirking at me with bright steel eyes that caught the light above us. "I think he likes you," he teased, and I rolled my eyes, looking back down at the dog.

      He was staring up at me, his tongue hanging past his lips. "I think this dinner would all go back to normal if you gave him the proper greeting he wants," Kenny said, folding his arms over his chest as he lingered beside me. He was slightly taller than me and pretty lanky, but with his arms crossed I could see the muscle beneath his skin bulging against his shirt.

      I sighed, looking back down at TenSoon, who seemed to be giving me a knowing stare. Such a weird dog...

      I couldn't read animals' minds. I wasn't sure why the power was only subjective to humans, but it created this weird dynamic that made me feel oddly inferior to them. Maybe that was why I was so aggressive toward cats growing up—I at least had physical control over them.

      It also made me wonder if they even had minds to read. This one sure seemed like it.

      With a shrug, I didn't have to even bend over as I reached my arm out and began petting his head. His lips stretched back further, as if he was smiling, and his hazel eyes squinted as he basked in my ministrations. I scoffed, shaking my head in amusement. "Once a ferocious beast, now a sweet pup," I teased.

      "That's TenSoon for ya'. I think he was just givin' you a right of passage," Kenny said through a smile, and I removed my hand from the dog with one last stroke to his ear.

      He turned and trotted from the kitchen as if nothing had ever happened. "Well, shall we get back to my delicious food before it goes cold? I didn't spend hours cooking for it to be ruined by a silly old mutt," Kenny chimed.

      I shook my head with a sigh as I lifted my chair and sat back down. "Talk about friendly dinner with the neighbors," I mumbled, and Kenny chuckled.

      "How old is TenSoon?" my father asked as everyone began to settle back into their seats. I took my napkin and rubbed at my face with it, then attempted to get all of the leftover collard greens off my hand, and made a half-assed attempt at wiping it off the chair—I heard Levi click his tongue beside me.

      "He's about six, now. Surprisingly enough, he was just dumped on our doorstep in a box in the middle of winter—like in one of those cliché movies. He was just a little thing, maybe not even two weeks old. Vet said he probably wasn't gonna make it. But here he is, a massive pain in my ass." He laughed boisterously after his explanation.

      Mom smiled gently. "That's a sweet story," she said.

      "Do you have any idea who left him? Was there a note or anything?" I asked curiously.

      Kenny shook his head. "Nope. Not a thing. Levi opened the door and found him, and we just took him in."

      "You sure fed him enough milk," I added, glancing at Levi with a smirk. Kenny chuckled, and Levi rolled his eyes.

      The rest of the dinner went by somewhat normally. There were a few more casual questions asked by my parents, and vise versa from Kenny—specifically about my mom. It didn't seem like he gave a single shit about my dad being a doctor, which seemed to visibly tick him off. Levi and I continued to make small jabs at each other, and a lot of the time I would catch my parents staring at us—though I wasn't sure why.

      I ended up taking seconds, shoving mouthfuls of food down my throat. Once I was actually able to enjoy it, I truly indulged in its flavor. Everything was cooked perfectly—it outranked my mom's years-worth of practice any day.

      But eventually, finally, it was time for the brownies. Kenny may have been a wonderful cook, but my mother's brownies could send someone to heaven—I wholeheartedly believed that. My stomach may have been on the brink of exploding from how much I'd eaten, but nothing could stop me from experiencing the taste.

      And as I sank my teeth into the chocolatey, gooey pastry, I hummed in satisfaction. I wasn't the only one—Kenny made a pleased sound, too, and Levi's eyes seemed to widen once he took the first bite, pulling the brownie away from his lips and staring at it as if it was something from another universe.

      My mom was obviously flattered by everyone's reaction, placing her hand over her chest. "Carla, these are amazing! I might have to bribe you for some more later," Kenny said with a chuckle.

      "Oh, thank you. I spent years perfecting the recipe. Didn't get it from a grandma, or anything, but some other bakers shared their wisdom with me and I just tweaked it overtime," she explained.

      "Man, these are the best I've ever had," Kenny added. My mom let out an airy laugh. Levi didn't say anything, but it was obvious how he felt by the way he kept shoving it into his mouth.

      When everyone seemed to decide they'd finally had enough to eat, Kenny began wrapping up some of his dishes. "Why don't I send you guys home with some of this stuff? Between the two of us, it'd take ages to get through it all. Feel free to take anything you want," he said to my mother.

      "Oh! Thank you, we'd love to," she said as she stood up with my dad. I was surprised she'd accepted as easily as she did, normally she was one to decline such an offer—she didn't like to be reminded that there were others that could cook better than her. But the food was too good to pass up, and maybe she was humble enough to accept the fact that Kenny outranked her this time around.

      We ended up taking the rest of the casserole—which I was quite happy about—some artichoke dip, a bunch of sautéed zucchini, and two containers of mushroom soup. In turn, my mother left Kenny and Levi with the brownies, which he was ecstatic about. I was a little ticked off, but I made sure to snag another one before they were closed away.

      A few moments later, once everything was packed up and divided between our three pairs of hands, my parents and I idled by the front door. Kenny seemed to have a knack for beating down the awkwardness that threatened to rise, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, despite the untraditional dinner activities, I'd like to say it was a success," he said with a smirk.

      "Yes, everything was wonderful. Sorry about... that," my mom said. She eyed my neck for a moment with a subtle glare, and I scoffed.

      Kenny waved a hand through the air. "Eh, don't worry about it. Worse things have happened, am I right?" He turned and nudged Levi with his outstretched elbow, and Levi crossed his arms, glancing away. I wondered what he was referring to, but I didn't ask I lingered my eyes on Levi.

      He glanced at me, and raised an eyebrow. "You're not gonna wear that all evening, are you?" he said, gesturing to my outfit.

      I glanced down at myself and noticed the smear of artichoke dip on my chest, and I chuckled. "I might sleep in it, who knows. I just look so good," I teased.

      He shook his head, but a small smirk curled the corner of his lips. "That's what you think. Whatever, I'll see you tomorrow, if you even decide to go," he said in a horrible impression of myself.

      I laughed, playfully saluting again. "See you."

      Before we opened the front door to step out, I caught movement in my peripheral. I looked up to see TenSoon laying down at the end of the hallway, staring directly at me.

      What a weird dog.

      The sun had since melted behind the city, and by the time we got home, darkness had settled over the sky. The days were steadily getting shorter as winter approached.

      However, my mom decided the waning day wasn't enough of a reason to let us all settle down for the evening. Instead of allowing me to slip up to my room and waste the rest of my night playing video games, as I had planned, she stopped me just as I set a container of leftovers on the counter.

      "What is wrong with you?" she asked, throwing her hands over her hips. I blinked at her, taken aback by her sudden abrasiveness.

      "That's a loaded question, mom," I said with a smirk. I reached up and behind my head to pull my bun out, letting my hair that had been waved from the constricting style fall onto my shoulders. I slid a clawed hand through my scalp, sighing with relief.

      She scoffed. "Don't play dumb with me. Why did you have to act that way with Levi in front of Kenny? Why can't you just behave normally for once?"

      It took me a moment to process the bluntness of her words, and I raised my eyebrows as a disbelieving laugh left me. "Normal? I haven't been normal since the day I was born," I bit back. My dad idled by the kitchen entryway. I caught his tense shoulders in the corner of my eye. He'd been in that same position more times than we'd all could count, just watching. Waiting.

      But for some reason, tonight, I didn't want to unfold into having an argument—a process I was otherwise so used to with my mom. The chaotic events of today had brought on a sense of excitement and wonder within me, something I hadn't felt in a long time. The time spent with Levi and his uncle had made me happy. For once, I wasn’t going to let her ruin that for me.

      "That still doesn't excuse the way you behaved. Starting a food fight at the table, really? And that dog nonsense—Jesus," my mom shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.

      I couldn’t help but chuckle. "Okay, the dog thing wasn't my fault. He had it out for me the moment I walked through the door. But the food fight... okay, I guess I got out of hand. I'm sorry, okay?"

      My mom seemed to still. And odd silence settled between us. "Did you just apologize to me?" she said in disbelief, glancing over my chest and neck as if searching for something.

      I shrugged, tucking my hands in my pockets. "I did say I wasn't normal, didn't I?" I calmly teased, and she narrowed her eyes at me for a moment before her entire body relaxed.

      "Yeah, what was wrong with that dog? In all my forty-two years, I've never seen one behave that way—and the size of him, dear god." My mom shook her head, but a small smile graced her features. Knowing she seemed to have put the chaos I'd caused behind her immediately put me at ease.

      "They need to keep him on a leash in the house, is what it looks like," my dad chimed in. "Seven years old and hardly trained."

      I glanced at him to see him lounging against the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to have greatly relaxed, as well. "Right?" my mom agreed.

      Assuming any previous dispute had been stepped on, I turned and headed for the pantry, opening the cabinet door and grabbing a bag of barbecue potato chips. "You just ate dinner," my mom commented.

      "You have a point. But my happy stomach says otherwise," I said with a shrug.

      She sighed. "Eren, before you go upstairs, I just have one more thing to say," she added. I hummed as I turned to her, pulling the bag open and shoving my hand inside. I pushed a handful of chips into my mouth, chewing loudly as I awaited what she had to tell me.

      She raised an eyebrow at me, regarding me up and down. "Haven't made a new friend, huh?" Her tone reeked of suspicion, amplified by her arms folding over her chest.

      I drew my eyebrows together as I tilted my head in confusion. "What?" I asked with a mouthful of chips, the question muffled, and she scoffed.

      "You and Levi? Please, I haven't seen you act that way with anyone in years," she accused.

      Both of my eyebrows raised this time, and I made sure to swallow before I responded so I wouldn't choke. "Me and Levi? It's just some stupid bickering—he tries to act all tough, so I push him," I insisted. Because that was all it was.

      She gave me a deadpan expression that reeked of doubt. "Oh really? Please, honey, I haven't seen flirting like that since your dad and I were your age," she said with a matter-of-fact tone.

      All of a sudden, just as I was about to open my mouth and retort with how crazy she was, my dad stepped forward. "Is that so? That dinner told me otherwise. Kenny was completely hitting on you," he boldly claimed.

      My eyes widened, my mom and I rendered speechless. I took a step back with the bag of chips in my hand as she sputtered, tumbling over her words. "W–what? He was absolutely not!" she exclaimed.

      I suddenly remembered something Levi had blurted at the table, which was conveniently cut off by Kenny. "I'm not the one who thinks our new neighbor is—"

      "Oh my god, mom, he totally was!" I said with a dropped jaw, shoving more chips into my mouth.

      She jerked her head back and forth between my dad and I, her eyes wide. "Wh–why has this suddenly become about me!? Get to bed, you have school in the morning." She pointed at my chest with a harsh glare. I doubled over with laughter, trying not to let the chips spill out of my mouth.

      "Whatever you say, heartbreaker," I teased, and she smacked me on the shoulder when I passed her.

      As I was heading for the stairs, I heard my mom and dad begin to bicker behind me. I smirked to myself, shaking my head as I began treading the first few steps.

      At least it's not my mom and I this time.

      However, I couldn't help but think about the words she'd left me to dwell over. That wasn't... flirting. It couldn't have been.

      Levi and I were just messing with each other. We were barely even friends.

      Right?

      "Oi, Levi, come here for a second.” My uncle waved me over from the living room couch, catching me fleeing for the hallway after finishing the dishes. He muted the TV once I turned to him, resting the remote on the coffee table before throwing his arm over the back of the cushions.

      I folded my arms over my baggy sweatshirt "Hm?" I responded simply.

      "Do you know much about that Eren kid?" he asked next. I felt my heart skip a beat of betrayal. I could sense the wary tone in his voice, and my eyebrows unwillingly creased between my eyes.

      "Not really. We just met." The thought of Eren again did little good for my pulse, but his name coming from my uncle surprised me. I guess he had caught on to my sudden interest in him. After all, the moment he took a picture of me that first day, I knew I wanted him in my life.

      "Well, you know what they say about dogs... they can read a man's soul," He elaborated, gesturing to TenSoon. He rested at the corner of the rug by Kenny's feet, his giant form taking up almost half of our L-shaped couch.

      I placed one hand over my hip, cocking it to the side. "He seemed pretty happy when he was licking all the dip off his face near the end," I said. I wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to imply, but I was beginning to catch on, and it was building an uncomfortable itch beneath my skin.

      "Yeah, I know... just, keep an eye on him, alright? If you do decide to get... close," Kenny said, turning back to the muted TV. I lingered on his words for a moment, feeling a small frown beginning to etch itself over my lips.

      "Okay..." I mumbled, turning as Kenny unmuted the TV. I begun to head down the hallway toward my room, an unforgiving swarm of thoughts quickly rising to the surface.

      Yet, while I tried to brush off my uncle's foreboding warning, used to his overly-paranoid ways, I found myself dwelling over his words hours into the night, eyes glued to the ceiling.

Chapter Text

Sina Park

      I was planning on going to school that morning. I didn't intend on missing any more classes, I wasn't that irresponsible. Probably. But I hadn't planned on only getting three hours of sleep, either. Sure, one could have blamed the hours I put into Final Fantasy XV, not realizing it was midnight until my heart sank once I mindlessly checked my phone.

      But the real culprit was the debilitating train of thought that kept my mind racing all night.

      I wasn't sure why what my mom said last night had latched itself to my brain so tightly. It wasn't that big of a deal—she was just wrong. Reading too much into things, like she always did.

      But it wasn't fair that she had to let her tendency to overthink leech onto me. I didn't ask to have a sleepless night wondering what she meant, how on earth she viewed my banter with Levi as flirting—because it absolutely wasn't.

      And because it wasn't, I was now laying on my bed, mindlessly staring at the white ceiling with eye-bags that could carry Levi's groceries into the house—thinking about the fact that it wasn't.

      I let my heavy lids fall shut once more, my bones and muscles screaming for more sleep. I had snoozed my alarm five times already, and I knew it was only a matter of time until—

      "Eren." I snapped my eyes open again, overcome with a wave of irritation. I slowly looked to my bedroom door, which was opening with a dreadful creak that echoed through my skull.

      The moment I could see her peek her head into my room, the same mantra as always left her mouth. "Are you getting ready for school?" I wasn't sure why she asked that every single time when she could clearly see me buried under the covers. No, mom. I wasn't showering, brushing my teeth, and putting clothes on in bed. That would've been a cool power, though.

      "That's such a stupid question," I grumbled, throwing the covers over my eyes. The sun wasn't even out yet, as it didn't even rise this time of the year until nearly an hour from now. But I didn't want to face the day ahead when sleep awaited me with such a taunting, peaceful voice.

      She made a tsk sound with her teeth, and I could hear her stepping further into my room. "Don't be smart. You know what I mean. Come on, get up," she demanded.

      "No. I'm not going," I said loudly enough for my voice to carry through the comforter.

      "Nope. Uh-uh. I'm not doing this today. Get up, Eren." This was how it went every time. She was always 'not doing this today'—yet it rarely tilted the odds in her favor. When I had my mind set on not going to school, there was very little that could sway me.

      "That's cool. I'm still not going," I said, my voice a groggy rasp that felt like sandpaper in my dry throat. I knew I had an open water bottle on my bedside table, so I barely pulled the covers from my eyes until I could glance at it. I didn't care that all I had to do was stretch my arm a mere few inches to grab it, it was just fine where it was under the comforter. So I Telekinetically lifted the bottle, brought it to my mouth, and drank from it without having to touch it. Laziness at its absolute finest at this godforsaken hour.

      "Why do you feel like doing this to me this morning? How is this fair to me?" There she goes, on to rant about how cruel of a son I was.

      "It's not fair that I only got three hours of sleep," I mumbled, shutting my eyes again once I set the water bottle down.

      "And how is that anyone's fault but your own? Maybe you wouldn't be on such little sleep if you weren't constantly on that damn game," she bit back. Her voice had increased in volume and pounded against my temples. I didn't want to explain what had kept me up—she would've done only one of two things, blow it out of proportion or turn it around on me. I helplessly groaned; it sounded more like a tired whine in the back of my throat.

      "I don't wanna hear it. Get out of bed. Now." I had stopped taking her 'don't test me' mother voice seriously quite some time ago. The demand in her tone simply slipped off my shoulders like water on a duck.

      "No," I said simply.

      I heard a smack, and I could only imagine it was her hand against her thigh, since she liked to dramatically toss it into the air. "You want me to get another phone call from the principle about your absences? Do you want to fail your last year of high school after you've nearly flunked every single year already?" Way to rub it in, mom.

      "I'm not gonna flunk. I just don't want to fucking go to school today. I don't care," I snapped, jerking the covers from over my upper body until they fell atop my hips. The cold air nipped at my exposed skin and I shuddered. Why did I do that? I pulled the covers back over me with a groan, turning onto my side.

      "First of all, don't use that language with me. Second of all, Jesus, Eren. I try so hard to give you a successful education and you pull this on me near the end of a semester. Some consideration you have." Aaand there was the guilt tripping. She couldn't pull the 'I could be sent to prison,' bit anymore, since I was going to be twenty in less than five months and the school system had stopped caring the moment I turned eighteen.

      "Yeah, I'm a really inconsiderate son, I know. Now leave me alone," I mumbled, my voice caked between my body and the wall I faced.

      "Fine. I'm not going to have a screaming match with you this morning. If you want to throw your education away, so be it. At least I can say I tried," she snapped. I could tell she was waiting for a response, hanging on the hope that I'd give in considering she caved so easily—there were times in the past we were at this for over twenty minutes—but I didn't give her one.

      She groaned, an exasperated and furious sound, before I cracked my eyes open and turned my head just in time to see her spin on her heels and stomp out of my room, slamming my door behind her.

      I made a pleased hum and turned back around, snuggling deeper into the covers.
Finally, peace.

      I began to doze back off, the grip of sleep quickly dragging me back to its clutches. But I wholeheartedly welcomed it, and before I knew it I was entering that weird parallel existence where I could hear myself beginning to snore while my mind was still active.

      However, just as my mind was beginning to slip away, too, my door opened again. I immediately groaned, grabbing my pillow and curling it over my head.

      But the muffled voice I heard following the interruption surprised me. "Eren." I released my pillow and turned to see my dad standing at my doorway, his hand curled around the frame. "You're giving your mother an aneurysm. Just go to school; you can sleep when you get home." His deep voice was also laced with an evident tiredness. There was no doubt he'd rather have been in bed now, too.

      "Mom really sent you? I don't want to go. Just leave it," I groaned. Honestly, fighting it was steadily becoming more exhausting than the idea of getting up, but I wouldn't openly admit to that.

      "Don't give her a hard time. She's doing this for your sake," he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

      "If she was doing anything for my sake, she'd let me sleep in. So would you," I bit back, and he sighed.

      "Well, I tried," I heard him mumble under his breath. My heart leapt with relief. Success. As I hoped, he turned and made his way back down the hall. He left my door open, but that wasn't nearly a problem as all I did was nudge it shut from where I lay.

      I heard my mother's voice raise to a near-shrill just a few seconds later.

      However, falling back asleep suddenly became difficult after that. As if I was thrown back into the night before, a slew of thoughts were quickly rushing through me. Dwelling on the fact that I had received zero sleep quickly turned into the very reason why that was the case. I hated how the brain worked, it was so infuriating that I couldn't just turn my mind off when I needed silence the most.

      Flirting and attraction hadn't even been something I considered throughout my entire life. I'd pretty much shrugged off the fact that I was most likely asexual and aromatic when it came to anyone but myself, though ironically enough, it was Dr. Clark who informed me that with some people it took a specific person to rise those kind of feelings to the surface, and sometimes it would take years until that person was found.

      I had let his take on the matter roll off my back. I figured it didn't matter either way. But now I was reconsidering all that I knew, and all that I had told myself.

      When I had insisted to Levi that I wasn't the type to flirt, he had another opinion on the matter. 'Something tells me you just don't know it yet.’

      I hadn't thought too hard on what he meant, but my mom of all people had commented on our banter. Flirting was supposed to be the back-and-forth teasing, the batting of eyelashes, the comments on looks, the winking—

      Oh.

      "Shit," I cursed to myself, tossing my legs up beneath my covers in a burst of anger and sending them flying. They gently sank back down, but the flow of movement was a stark contrast to what was going on in my head.

      Did Levi know what we were doing was obviously flirting? Was he in on it? Had he been amused by my obliviousness? I felt like such an idiot—but I hadn't had any genuine social interaction for nearly two years, since... them. Was I really flirting with the first person who gave me the time of day? Was I that desperate for human interaction?

      The idea made me want to curl up and sleep for the rest of the week. I threw the covers over my head, bundling them in my fists. A frustrated groan left me, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness.

      I hated myself for resorting to thinking this, but...

      What would Dr. Clark say...

      He always told me to take a step back and make sense of my emotions, to evaluate the root of my problem. The root wasn't my mom—as much as I wanted to blame her. It wasn't even my lack of awareness. It had to have been... Levi himself.

      Levi. He was an interesting guy, something I hadn't yet seen in this bland city. He was so blunt, so callous. He didn't tiptoe around anything and he didn't often care what I had to say, because he stood his ground. His foundation seemed strong.

      I could admit, he intrigued me. But I didn't think it was anything more than that. Yet, the more I thought about him, the more I almost itched to see him again, to experience the thrill of our building dynamic—how fresh and interesting it was. I itched to tease him further, to wonder what he would say next, and to see if my mom’s words really had any truth to them.

      But I wasn't going to find out by staying home, was I?

      I groaned, rolling around in my bed. I was so torn. I wanted to stay home; I wanted to sleep the rest of the day away, but I also didn't want to prove Levi right. He would have expected me to stay home, it's what I had told him I might do. It was exactly the kind of thing I did.

      Between that and the intriguing—though mildly infuriating—urge to see him again, my mere three hours of sleep began to seem less dire. Despite the heaviness of my eyelids and the dreariness of my mood, I found myself inching toward the edge of the bed with each passing second.

      And when my feet hit the floor, I knew I had made up my mind.

      I sighed, letting my eyes fall shut with final fleeting moments of rest before I stood up. I didn't feel like showering—I would have probably risked falling asleep standing up. So I opened my drawer across the room from where I stood and pulled out a shirt, which I met halfway with tired feet before tugging it on.

      What am I doing? I already won the argument with my parents, there was literally no reason to do this to myself without it being some sick form of masochism. Yet, every time I considered crawling back into bed, Levi's face entered my field of vision, and I changed my mind all over again.

      I glanced at my phone and pulled it toward me, letting it fall into my hand before I checked the time. I had thirty more minutes before I was officially late for first period. It took ten minutes to drive to school, so technically I only had twenty. Nevertheless, I took my time pulling on a pair of black jeans before heading to the bathroom. I flicked the light on before glancing at myself in the mirror, then did a double-take. I looked tired as shit. There were faint dark circles under my eyes that stuck out against my otherwise warm skin tone. I sighed, combing my hair back with a hand and tugging my fingers through the snags they caught on.

      I brushed my teeth, splashed some cold water on my face, and ran my hands through my hair one more time before deeming myself ready enough. I didn't look half as presentable as I usually did, but at this point I didn't care.

      I could feel my mood depleting with each passing second. I didn't want to be awake, but the war of thoughts in my head tugged me between the idea of my soft bed and the idea of seeing Levi. It was unbearably frustrating—I knew I wouldn't have been able to go back to sleep if I had gone back to bed, anyway.

      I sighed, itching for a distraction from my anxiety. I knew my uncertainty would only get worse when I saw Levi again, but until then I could do for a little mind-relaxation.

      Music. That would do it. Blasting my brain with sound until thoughts wouldn't dare live any longer. I left the bathroom, treading to my beside table and yanking open the drawer below it. I rummaged through it—pushing aside the cords, batteries, and miscellaneous shit I had piled in there without purpose, but my wireless earbuds weren't in there.

      I huffed, checking a few other places in my room that they could have been before giving up when I knew my search was in vain.

      I tugged open my bedroom door, dragging my feet through the hallway before trudging down the stairs with heavy bones. I heard faint voices coming from the kitchen, and I rounded the entryway to see my mother plating several pancakes.

      "Where are my earbuds?" I asked immediately. Mom stood up straight and jerked her head to me with wide eyes locked on my chest, and Dad lifted his head from the newspaper in his hand.

      "So, he wakes from the dead. Does this mean you're going to school?" she asked as she plated the final two with a glare at the pan.

      "Only if I find my earbuds," I said curtly.

      She turned and slid the pan into the sink, turning on the faucet to let water run over it. A moment of silence passed before she finally decided to answer me. "I hid them because Dr. Clark said they were making your ADHD worse, remember?"

      My eyebrows drew together. "No," I said simply, because I genuinely couldn't recall that happening. Granted, before I stopped using them—apparently, due to them being taken away—I had been wearing them nearly twenty-four-seven.

      She scoffed with a shake of her head. "Exactly," she mumbled, and I raised an eyebrow.

     Deciding to brush off her snippy comment, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Well, where did you hide them?" I asked plainly, and my dad looked back down at his newspaper.

      "Why would I tell you that? Just come eat," my mother said, gesturing to the table. I stayed planted where I was despite the enticing waft of the pancakes she had made, faint wisps of steam still curling from the stack.

      "I'm only going to school if I have my earbuds," I said matter-of-factly. I knew I was being annoying, but I didn't really care.

      My mother quickly shook her head, an exasperated look on her face. "I'm not going to be guilt-tripped into indulging in your bad habits. You're either going to school or you're not—without your earbuds," she said sternly, turning back to the pan in the sink.

      I stared at her for a moment, glaring despite her attention focused elsewhere. I eventually rolled my eyes, lazily turning on my heel before beginning to head back upstairs.

      Guess I'll have to find them myself.

      I began in my mother's crotchet room—it was really just a lounge room with a rocking chair, a bunch of her crocheting supplies, extra storage holding my old baby toys, and a small shag carpet I used to play on. I hummed, glancing around before deeming her supply drawer as my most viable starting point. I opened three drawers at once, Telekinetically moving stuff aside while my hands helped by pushing away what I wasn't glancing at. I quickly closed each drawer that had nothing in it until there weren't any remaining ones to search.

      I quickly scoured through the rest of the room before deeming it unsuccessful. I left the room without cleaning anything up and shut the door behind me, treading back down the hall until I reached a particular door.

      My father's office.

      I looked down at the nob, wedging my bottom lip between my teeth and glancing at the top of the stairs. Turning back toward the door once I knew the coast was clear, I lifted my hand to grab it. But just as I had expected, it didn't budge when I gave it a careful twist.

      I didn't think it would have miraculously been unlocked today, but it was always worth a shot. Because I couldn’t see inside of the lock or on the other side of the door, there was no way of unlocking it Telekinetically.

      I sighed, moving on to the next room—which wasn't entirely forbidden, though I was advised to remain from intruding—my parents' bedroom.

      It was humbly decorated, per my mother's request, but you could starkly tell the difference between whose side was whose. They each had walk-in closets, though that was the only parallel similarity. My mom’s side was clean and organized, but trinkets, pictures, and knickknacks were meticulously placed around, and frames of crotchet butterflies and flowers hung along the wall.

      My dad’s, on the other hand, wasn't messy—no, it was nearly sterile, with merely a lamp on his bedside table, a shelf of organized folders against the wall, and a bookshelf beside it. It was almost psychopathic how he didn't have a single inch of personality to it, save for the books about his occupation.

      They had a shared desk in the corner of the room, which was where I began. Just as I had done while rummaging through the crotchet room, I opened multiple drawers at once side-by-side. I Telekinetically shuffled everything out of the way along with my hands to cover more ground, scanning over every object that lay inside.

      There was nothing in the desk, so I moved onto my father's side of the room. His bookshelf mostly consisted of medical theses and science mumbo-jumbo with title's too long to bother reading, so I merely skimmed my eyes above them and checked the top of the shelf.

      Once that proved useless, I moved to his bedside table and tugged the drawer open. What caught my eye was surprising, and a quizzical expression overcame me. I tugged the familiar piece of paper out and skimmed my eyes over it. It was a sheet of my up-to-date diagnoses.

      Why does he have this in his bedside table?

      It offered nothing more than my default medical information, so I shrugged it off—my parents have always been weird—before tucking it back in its place. I moved to my mother's side, eyeing her bedside table. I bit my bottom lip, hesitancy clouding me—she was my mom. Snooping was pretty inappropriate as her adult son, right?

     But I need to find my earbuds.

      I sighed, reluctantly giving in before tugging open the first drawer. My need for success outweighed the morality of the situation. But inside were only more crotchet supplies. I rolled my eyes, moving onto the second drawer. I was more tentative with her stuff, less haphazard—I had no idea what to expect.

      But when I pulled it open and my eyes landed on what was inside, I let out a shocked gasp.

      "Ew, ew, ew, ew! Fuck me!" I exclaimed, Telekinetically slamming it shut before I could think twice on what I had seen. But I realized too late that my fingers had been caught in the drawer, now smashed between the wood. "FUCK!" I yelled, quickly tugging my hand out, which pulled on their sockets and only made it worse.

      "Eren, what was that?" my mom’s voice echoed from downstairs. The pain throbbing through my hand sent tingling waves of heat up my spine, sweat from adrenaline building on my skin as I rapidly swiped my hand through the air.

      "Shit," I whispered helplessly. "Nothing!" I shouted back, standing up with a pained groan. "I'm so fucking done," I whined to myself, pushing my hair back on my head.

      This was useless. I turned around, ready to give up on my search and accept defeat as I desperately attempted to forget what I had discovered. But just as I took a step toward the front door, I caught a hint of white in my peripheral. I jerked my head up, and sure enough, on top of my mom’s bookshelf behind a slew of Beanie Babies she had decorated it with, was my earbud case.

      "No shit!" I exclaimed with a grin. Finding them had just made up for all of the torment I'd put myself through, and my mood inflated instantly. I Telekinetically brought the case down to me and let it carefully fall into my hands, opening it and sighing with relief to see my earbuds safely tucked inside.

      I was swimming with a slew of emotions considering what I had just laid eyes on moments ago—but all that mattered was that I now had what. I was looking for. I quickly popped them into my ear, but refrained from connecting them to my phone until I could see my mom’s reaction to me having found them.

      I trotted downstairs with a newfound burst of energy and into the kitchen. My mom was sitting at the table now, engaged in a conversation with my dad as she held her cup of green tea inches from her lips.

      "I'm ready to go now," I announced with a smug expression, and they paused to glance at me. Mom took one look at the earbuds in my ear before scoffing, pinching her expression as I grinned. "You never give up, do you?" she snapped.

      "Isn't that supposed to be a good thing? I'm resilient," I teased, and she sighed before standing up from her chair.

      "You didn't go snooping in our bedroom to find those, did you?" she asked suspiciously as she grabbed her and my dad’s plates, her eyebrows raised. My dad turned back to his newspaper. Memories and images flooded forth in horrendous waves, and I knew I couldn’t hide it with the way my ears and cheeks began to heat up.

      "Dear god, mom. You don't want to know what I found," I groaned, sliding a hand to my forehead.

      Her eyes widened momentarily, as if processing the information, before she scoffed. "Hey, you better be glad your father and I have a good sex life—that's one of the first things to go before divorce," she said casually.

      I gagged, the sound loud and dramatic. "What?" my dad exclaimed, jerking his head from his newspaper as if he'd just tuned into the conversation.

      "Please don't ever say something like that ever again," I begged.

      My mom laughed. "Then don't go snooping in places you'll regret,” she said with a shrugged.

      "Whatever. At least I found them," I grumbled.

      "At your own expense!" my mom sang. "And since you wanted to go on a scavenger hunt, you're gonna be late," she continued. "But you can't take your medication on an empty stomach, here—" she immediately went into director mode, grabbing her purse from the shelf and slinging it over her shoulder as she spoke before rushing to the counter. She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and snagged a granola bar from the cabinet above it.

      She tossed both to me before grabbing my three bottles of brain-chemical-alteration. "Eat those in the car, but take these," she demanded, setting them next to a glass of water at my seat.

      I shoved the granola bar into my pocket before sliding the apple under one arm as I ingested the pills, chugging water down with each one until the glass was empty. "Hair up," she demanded, handing me a hair-tie. "Let's go," she said quickly. I didn't deny her, as I had pretty much gotten everything I wanted this morning—and definitely more than I had asked for—and I had no real reason to complain. I shoved the apple into my mouth before tying my hair up, following her to the door. "Bye, honey," she said to my dad.

      "Bye, dear. Glad you changed your mind, Eren," my father said before grabbing his newspaper again.

      I lazily saluted before taking the apple from my mouth, chewing the piece I had bitten off as we left the house. I cringed when I realized it was more tart than apples should have been, and I sighed. Pancakes would have been so much better than this.

      As we slid into the car, I caught my mom sending quick glares to my ears. I ignored her, pairing the earbuds with my phone before going to my playlist. I didn't hesitate to turn the volume all the way up. The first song that played was Paris by $uicideBoy$. I hummed, shutting my eyes and leaning my head back as my mom started the car.

     Just as I had hoped, the thumping of the bass and volume of the lyrics were the only things that could exist in my brain. My thoughts were forced out, replaced with the invigorating, blood-pumping music that practically reached my soul with how loud it was. I missed this.

      Before I knew it, we had arrived at Sina. I only realized once my mom shoved my knee with a bit too much force than necessary. I didn't pause the music, I only turned off the soundproof effect and grabbed my backpack. "You're going to have to walk home today; your father and I are going out," she yelled over the music.

      "What?" I shouted back, even though I had heard her, and she glowered at my neck. I grinned. "Kidding. Whatever, bye," I said before sliding out of the car.

      Nobody was outside when I headed through the gate, and I checked my phone to see that first period had already begun. I shrugged, tucking my hands and my phone back in my pocket and heading inside the building.

      I mumbled the lyrics to the next song that shook my brain, kicking my feet along the glossy, worn floor. I was already late, so there was no point in rushing. When I opened the door to first period, everyone lifted their heads to look at me. I ignored them, heading straight to my seat at the back of the class. I heard Mr. Hannes' voice carry over the music, but I didn't care whether he was talking to me or not.

      When I looked over before sitting down, my eyes almost seemed drawn toward the figure two seats to the left. He was already looking at me, something unreadable in his gaze. I smirked in return, and he rolled his eyes. He had his arms crossed over his chest—today he wore a large black sweater that was torn in thin slits along his torso and arms. Ironically, the song I was listening to started talking about self-harm as soon as I noticed.

      I paused the music just as I sat down, tearing my eyes away from his, and it was as if I had been plummeted back into a worse reality. I sighed, deciding to leave my earbuds in despite the music ceasing as I tugged my math book from my backpack.

      The medication was working a bit too well today, because despite my earlier distraction, Mr. Hannes' voice drilled into my skull. I supposed it was useful, since testing was right around the corner. It was at least better than dwelling over earlier, but my increased level of focus seemed to quickly yank first period along. My hand still throbbed, which constantly grounded me with a dull, annoying ache.

      Eventually, I willed myself to turn away from his lesson, and pushed my chair back ever-so-slightly until Levi was just in view. I forced myself to sit still, simply staring at him, willing my thoughts to toy with the whirlwind of newfound emotion.

      He was in the midst of writing something. He seemed deep in focus, his notebook unfolded in front of him and his hand clutching a deep-blue mechanical pencil. He effortlessly curled the led over the lined paper, and from the way he appeared, it didn't seem like he was taking notes. The glimmer in his silver eyes, slightly shadowed by the overhang of his black bangs, resembled moonlight. The slight bite of his lip whispered hints of deep focus and intrigued passion. His expression wrote words of something deeper than the mere urge to learn invoked.

      As I watched him write, I truly took a moment to soak in his features. The slight curvature of his sharp, yet delicate nose, his thin lips which slid from his teeth and now pursed in concentration—barely twitching every now and then as he slightly mouthed a word he wrote. His soft, coal-black hair that carefully draped over his forehead, contrasting his porcelain skin—all of it seemed to stand out on a pedestal anew.

      And he appeared so small, swimming in the oversized sweater that hung loosely on his limbs—limbs I knew were thin and toned beneath the thick fabric he wore.

      My eyes found his jawline, which stretched beautifully into his soft, creamy, unblemished neck, more defined by the way he tilted his head. I lingered there, beginning to find myself itching to mark it, to feel how warm his skin would be against my lips.

      I imagined what it would look like to leave a dark etching of my teeth there, how it would stand out against the pale color—the act of just simply looking at it, admiring its contrast.

      Something hot lit aflame within me, starting in my gut and spreading lower, simultaneously curling higher until it found my chest and encouraged my heart to thump quicker behind my ribcage.

      Then, it dawned on me.

      Was this attraction?

      It was a new feeling, vulnerable and mildly discomforting. But at the same time, it was invigorating. It was as if he was a light in the midst of a dark room; or the foreground in focus before a blurry background. All I saw was him, and the more I looked, the more I was ignited with a slowly brewing longing.

      And I knew one thing in that moment—the same moment he raised his head and turned to look at me, his eyes growing wide for the merest second when he realized I was staring.

      Nobody else would get to experience this feeling with him.

      By the time first period ended, I had almost fallen asleep on my desk from the slew of thoughts that I allowed to overwhelm me, draining me of any remaining will to stay awake. But I jolted upright when the bell rang, and as I blinked to watch the students flood around Mr. Hannes' announcements, a familiar form overshadowed me. "You look like a bus ran you over."

      My heart thumped quicker as I looked up to see Levi standing in front of my desk with his arms crossed over his chest. I eyed him up, admiring the way he drowned in his oversized sweater. When my gaze slid back to his face, I only now caught the sight of the slight gray under his eyes—I only imagined they mirrored mine.

      "I can't say you look any better," I bit back. I began to notice much more lay on my tongue, words that hadn't yet existed in the forefront of my mind until now. But now that I had become aware of this new dynamic, I was going to take it slow for once—feel it out and see where it would lead. I had no idea what I was doing, but frankly I had done enough thinking to try figuring that out.

      He glanced down at the floor before back into my eyes. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep much, either," he admitted. I raised an eyebrow. For some reason I felt the sense that his turmoil didn't stray too far from my own. It raised a mountain of curiosity within me. "I really thought you weren't going to show up. I shouldn't have anticipated any more, really," he added.

      My eyes lit up, and I leaned back in my chair with a growing grin. "Aww, you were anticipating me?" I teased.

      He scoffed. "More like hoping you weren't as much of an idiot as you come across," he quickly retorted.

      I leaned forward and propped my elbows up on my desk, resting my chin on my hand. "I thought you claimed you knew me?" I said slyly, admiring the way his expression pinched at my comment.

      He was silent for only a moment before he leaned his weight on one leg, slightly jutting his hip. My gaze lingered on the movement before meeting his eyes again. "Let me guess—you didn't want to come to school today, but something changed your mind?" he assumed, and I found myself taken aback by his perfectly targeted shot.

      But my grin only widened. "How the hell do you do that?" I asked quietly.

      He smirked, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear before tilting his head to the side. "I'm very perceptive," he bragged with embellished flamboyance, and I chuckled.

      A moment of silence passed between us. Some students were still hanging around in the class—I glanced behind Levi to notice Mr. Hannes was speaking with Mina, so we had some extra time to talk.

      Levi was the first to resume our conversation. "So, what was that thing that changed your mind?" I turned my attention back to him, locking my eyes with his. As usual, the urge to infiltrate his mind clouded me, though with him it had been growing less strenuous to battle. In his gaze I could sense something peculiar, a deeper meaning behind his question. Did he have a feeling it had been about him?

      I bit my lip, leaning my head back before responding. "Wouldn't you like to know?" I teased.

      Levi clicked his tongue, his eyebrows drawing together. "Idiot," he grumbled.

      Images of how he appeared at his seat greeted me, and I grew increasingly curious. "What were you writing about over there? Pretty careless of you to not pay attention during class,” I teased.

      He scoffed. "Look who's talking. I was actually writing a poem about how stupid you are," he shot back.

      "Aww, you were writing about me? I'm flattered." I draped a hand over my cheek and batted my eyelashes at him. He definitely grew amused by this, as a tiny smile curled the corners of his otherwise impassive lips.

      "Yeah, it really hurt my brain. I had to use so little cells to portray your blatant idiocy," he dramatized, throwing his hand to the side to accentuate his words.

      I stood up from my seat, slinging my backpack over my shoulder when I noticed the last few remaining students were beginning to leave. "I'm so sorry my idiocy put you through such pain," I played along, playfully pouting by curling out my bottom lip.

      He crossed his arms over his chest again. "Do you want to make it up to me?" I caught the way his eyes trailed up and down my body when I rounded my seat to stand in front of him.

      I drew my eyebrows together, suddenly hyper-aware of our proximity. I bowed my head to keep our eyes locked as he craned his up, his jawline more defined with the position. "How?" I cautiously asked.

      A beat of silence passed as he bit his lip for a few fleeting seconds. "I want to see more of the area. Take me to your favorite place in the city after school," he said.

      I was mildly taken aback—his request was the last thing I was expecting—though I attempted to refrain from letting my surprise show over my expression.

      I shoved my hands in my pockets, swallowing as I was suddenly swarmed with thoughts—the comments my mother had made, my jumbled, anxious dwelling, the very reason I had spiraled for hours into the night.

      On top of it all, I recalled my favorite place in the city—the place he'd asked me to take him, and with it dragged a slew of memories I had desperately hoped to forget over the years. My hands began to twitch in my pockets, embellishing the pain that jolted through my bruising fingers, and I glanced down at the floor as an uncharacteristic sheepishness overcame me.

      All of these feelings were out of my control, emotions I desperately wished I could beat down, and it frustrated me to no end.

      "I... can't, sorry," I forced myself to stay. I lifted my eyes, expecting disappointment to cross over Levi's features—something to encourage me to change my mind, even an expression of surprise.

      But all Levi did was shrug with an impassive look. "Alright then," he said, before turning around and leaving the classroom.

      I stood there, blinking at his sudden, unanticipated absence. He hadn't even reacted to my rejection—neither positively nor negatively. He didn’t care at all. It was almost like a slap in the face. Though I had been the one to deny him, it almost felt like he had been the one to reject me. It was so confusing, and it only served to fan the flames of frustration in my gut.

      I wasn't sure how long I was standing there for until Mr. Hannes cut through my train of thought. "Eren," he called. I jerked my head up and met his eyes. I needed some form of validation in that particular moment, so I didn't hesitate to read his mind. It was cluttered, as most teachers' heads tended to be, but it was easy to pick out his primary thoughts.

      'I haven't seen Eren socialize like that with anyone in ages. I hope this means he's moving forward.

      Good kid; needs direction,

      Always so distracted,'

      Images of his own son and feelings of resemblance joined his thoughts, even though we looked nothing alike. Trying to claw to the surface was a recent fight with his wife, and I found myself sighing as I broke eye-contact.

      "You better get to second period before you're late again," he finished.

      "Yeah. Sorry, sir," I mumbled before pursing my lips on a half-assed smile and trudging out of the classroom.

      Levi and I didn't share any more classes together until the final one of the day—gym. Hours stretched between us meeting again, hours I spent dwelling on my own pitiful frustration. I was a brooding mess, breaking out into a cold-sweat at the most random times, constantly dissociating and unable to focus.

      It pissed me off to no end that Levi had suddenly taken up so much of my mind in such a short span of time. Who was he to waltz into my life and make such a mess of things? I was doing completely fine on my own, not a single person to mull over—especially not a presumptuous, short, sarcastic transfer student.

      And with him seeming so content with my rejection, it made me realize he probably didn't rely on my company as much as I thought—as much as I realized I had begun to rely on his. It was confusing and painful, and I knew my feelings were only made worse by my disorder. I couldn't stand it.

      "Fuck," I whispered, shaking my head as I dragged myself to the locker building. I avoided everyone in the room—dicks were already beginning to swing around mindlessly. I never took off my briefs—there was no need to, even though I had nothing to hide.

      The usual commotion flooded the locker room as I slid on my gym shirt—idiotic teasing, the occasional random shout, the slamming of locker doors. However, the atmosphere seemed to shift into something much more tense when a loud voice carried over the rest of the noise.

      I lifted my head to see Jean slamming Connie against a locker, his face shoved merely inches in front of the shorter one's. Jean was shirtless, but Connie had already changed into his gym uniform. Connie's eyes were blown wide, his lips pursed tightly as surprise was written over his expression. The rest of the locker room dwindled to silence as everyone, including myself, watched them.

      "Yo, dude... chill out," Connie forced out through an awkward, dry laugh.

      But Jean's grip on his T-shirt tightened. "Shut the fuck up! Never joke about that shit!" Jean snapped. I drew my eyebrows together, eyeing the commotion with increasing interest as I slowly pushed my shirt into my locker.

      Reiner stepped up to the two of them and placed a large hand on Jean's shoulder. "He didn't mean anything by it, man. Just try to let it go," I caught him mumble.

      Jean violently shoved him off, venomous hazel eyes glaring daggers into Connie's, but eventually he let him go—not without one more grating slam into the locker—before turning around and stalking off. Threatening anger came off of him in waves, a tension that warded off anyone from even thinking about approaching him. I didn't have to read his mind to feel how unstable his emotions were.

      "Jesus," Connie mouthed to Reiner, rubbing at his neck, which was already turning red from the tight pressure that had been around his shirt collar.

      "Just forget it," Reiner said, turning and eyeing the rest of the locker room before stepping away from Connie and returning to his own locker.

      Connie sagged, appearing distraught. Him and Jean were supposedly good friends, after all. My curiosity got the best of me, so I took the opportunity to intrude in a place I didn't belong. I closed the distance between Connie and me, casually sliding my hands into my gym shorts. Connie and I weren’t close, all we did was share a couple of the same classes, but that didn’t matter. "What was that about?" I asked. I waited for the second Connie lifted his head to look into my eyes before taking my chance.

      It took some rummaging, as thoughts of my interruption were already clouding him. But since the incident was so fresh, I quickly found what I was looking for.

      'It's not my fault his dad is a douchebag.'

      I slightly cocked my head to the side. So it was about Jean's dad. The entire school practically knew that the man didn't treat Jean well—it's something I had secretly taken pity on in the past, since I knew what a bad relationship with your parents was like.

      "None of your business, dude," Connie grumbled, glaring up at me with a veil of rejection behind his eyes. I had expected that kind of response, but a verbal answer wasn't what I had wanted.

      I raised my hands beside me in meek surrender before shrugging my shoulders and turning around. As I did, I caught Levi's intrigued expression. When our eyes met, they lingered, something undecipherable simmering between us. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, barely creasing the skin between his gunmetal eyes, his pink lips resting gently. Before I could overthink the way he was looking at me, I broke eye-contact and headed back to my locker, tugging my sneakers on before shutting the metal door.

      Coach Shadis wasn't as riled up as he usually was, but he did comment on Jean's behavior when we all flooded into the gym. He was acting like a complete dick to anyone who attempted to talk to him, even the girls, but not at any point did he ever meet my eyes. It was frustrating and reminded me of the general limitation my Telepathy had, but I guess I had to accept the fact that I wouldn't be able to satisfy my curiosity by figuring out the details of his problem today.

      He usually had something snarky to say to me—I was always nitpicked to satisfy his own ego, but this time around, he let me be. He distanced himself from everyone in the room, and remained quiet if not acknowledged. It was oddly discomforting. I almost reveled in our usual petty disputes, they were a normalcy I had grown used to over the years.

      There were too many changes happening at once, and it was quickly throwing me off an already unstable balance.

      "I didn't realize you cared so much." I turned to see Levi combing his jet-black hair back as he walked up to my mat, dragging his own behind him.

      "Care about what?" I asked quizzically.

      He scoffed, as if the answer was obvious. "You keep staring at Jean like you're personally hurt, even though he's practically shouted at everyone but you," he proclaimed.

      "Oh," I mumbled, drawing my eyebrows together with a slight frown. I supposed I had made my feelings a little too obvious. Then again, I didn't doubt Levi could analyze behavior from several yards away at this point.

     "I don't care, he's just a dick," I insisted, even though I knew that wasn't the entire truth.

      "Mhm," Levi hummed doubtfully. He then lifted his mat and draped it over the ground beside me.

      "What are you doing?" I asked as he settled down onto it, crossing one leg over the other.

      "Stretching next to you. You look like you could use the company," he said impassively, staring forward as he began to lift his arms above his head.

      I swallowed, finding myself immediately drawn to the pale skin that was exposed when his crimson shirt rode up on his side. I tried not to focus on the fact that his choice to be near me simmered a subtle relief in my chest. I tore my eyes away, sighing as I followed his lead and lifted my arms, gripping my elbow as I curled my body to the side.

      I thought about his earlier request—his desire to see more of the city, the fact that he wanted to explore it with me. I had turned him down like it was nothing, even though my own internal self-sabotage was at hand, and he hadn't brought it up since. It was like he had never even asked, and I was tired of ignoring the way it bothered me so much.

      I spoke up before I could give myself the chance to hold back. "Hey, I changed my mind. I'll take you to my favorite place in the city," I said to him.

      He paused, blinking ahead for just a moment before turning to me. I wasn't expecting for him to smirk, his expression turning smug. "What? What's that look for?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest with a frown.

      "I knew if it looked like I didn't care, you would change your mind. Because you didn't want to feel like I didn't give you a second thought," he said matter-of-factly.

      My mouth fell open. All I could do was stare at him in pure surprise. Silence swam between us, something bright glinting in his eyes as he slid his bottom lip between his teeth.

      I couldn't help the grin that slowly lifted my lips. "I hate you."

      It was difficult to go through with taking Levi to the one place in the city that meant the most to me. I hadn't been there in nearly three months, and every single time I went, I was overwhelmed by memories that used to haunt me each day. Over time, they had gradually lessened until a distant but distinct ache replaced them, a minute bitterness, but I was worried that facing the location I held dear to my heart would resurface them all over again.

      I wasn't sure why I wanted to show it to Levi. Maybe I carried some optimistic hope that I'd be able to shine a new light on it, turn it into a happier memory again. Showing him anywhere else wouldn’t have felt right—not the cat café on State Street nor the antique shop on Court Avenue that had existed since the sixties. The place I would take him to was supposed to mean something to me, and no matter how much I tried to fool myself, nothing else would have stood on the same pedestal.

      "I have to talk to Mrs. Kurtz for a second. I'll meet you at the gate?" Levi said as we left the locker room, tightly hugging his jacket to his body.

      "Alright," I mumbled, tucking my hands in my pockets before I watched him jog toward the school.

      I looked up at the sky as I made my way to the gate, pulling my hair from its restricting bun and letting it fall over my shoulders. It was a dreary day; the clouds were a thick overhang above the drab city. But that wasn't anything new.

      Several more students passed through the gate along with myself, meeting with their friends or chatting amongst each other as school came to an end. A few girls and one of their guy friends who happened to be close enough for me to hear passed by as I stood by a wall of the building.

      “Have you met Levi yet? The new transfer student?” one asked.

      The guy of the group nodded. “Yeah, he’s in my lunch and English period. He’s pretty cool. Smart as hell, too. I wouldn’t mind getting to know him, but he’s a little stand-offish,” he said.

      I drew my eyebrows together, listening carefully as the girl replied. “Really? He seemed nice when I talked to him. Maybe he thinks you’re ugly.” She was clearly joking, as she giggled before the guy playfully hit her in the shoulder.

      I sighed as I settled back against the wall, the rest of their conversation growing too distant to hear. I couldn’t help but frown, and I wasn’t sure why. People were interested in Levi, that was to be expected. I mean, one look at him screamed ‘I’m meant to be popular.’

      But I didn’t want him to be. I didn’t want to have to share his attention with other people.

      I tried my best to shake the thought as I pulled my earbuds out of my pocket, shutting my eyes and allowing the grungy hip-hop and dark trap to calm my anxiety.

      Only five minutes passed before I felt a light tap to my arm. I opened my eyes and looked down to see Levi with his backpack slung over his shoulder, staring up at me with an amused expression. I paused the music and slid my earbuds back into their case, acknowledging him with a nod.

      He cocked his hip to the side and draped his hand over it. "Let me guess. You listen to $uicideBoy$?"

      My eyes widened as I jerked my head from my phone to his smug expression. "No shit! You heard it playing!" I insisted, because that was just not possible.

      He was silent for a moment, enjoying my reaction, before he finally chuckled. "Yeah, I heard it. But you strike me as the type, anyway," he said before biting his lip.

      I shrugged, faking indifference. "Actually, I prefer Ghostemane," I said casually, pushing myself from off the wall and crossing my arms over my chest.

      He raised an eyebrow. "Really? I feel like $uicideBoy$ is a more refined version of Ghostemane," he said.

      I tilted my head as we began walking toward the gate. "You listen to them?" I asked, partially surprised. It wasn't often I met someone with a similarly dark music taste. Well, it wasn't often I met someone at all, to be fair.

      He shrugged his shoulders. "Occasionally. When I'm feeling super emo." He looked at me with a smirk, nudging my shoulder with his.

      I rolled my eyes. "Wow, got me there," I drawled sarcastically. "Anyway, they may sound similar sometimes, but they have totally different styles. You really can't compare one to the other," I explained. He didn't verbally respond, but I watched something shine behind his eyes as he looked at me.

      "So. Where are you taking me?" he asked as we continued walking.

      I shook my head. "You'll see," I said vaguely.

      He scoffed. "If you're actually some psychopathic killer that's leading me to my painful demise, I'm going to kick your ass," he snapped.

      I laughed, looking down at him. "Hey, that'd make a cool story though. 'The Teen Killer: Highschool Menace," I said dramatically, spreading my hands out in front of me as if painting the title.

      He rolled his eyes. "That's an awful title. I would not pick up that book," he insulted.

      "Hey, no one said you had to like it. Especially if you're the victim," I teased.

      He huffed. "Shut up,” he said with a smirk.

      The walk to our destination wove in and out of silence. When we paused our mindless conversations, I honed in on the sounds of our feet against the sidewalk, the occasional crunch of gravel from construction or an unpaved road, the rumbling engines of the old cars that turned down the street we were on. The sounds of the unforgettable path brought me back to a different time—a time that reminded me of a youthfulness I used to take advantage of, one that was long gone.

      "Alright, we're here." We gradually came to a stop, and I looked up at the collection of maple and willow trees that swayed with the late autumn wind, sighing heavily.

      I glanced down to see Levi's eyebrows pinch together quizzically. "You brought me to a park?" he asked.

      "Not just any park. The park. Sina Park, to be exact. Everyone and their mother brings their kids here. It's the park I came to... growing up," I explained.

      I wasn't sure if it was because he was so open-minded, or if he could hear the subdued tone that had begun to cloud my voice. But after a moment of silence, broken by the occasional gust of wind through the trees, he nodded toward the park. "Then show me around."

      I glanced at him for a moment. The corner of his lips curled up just barely, and I sensed a phantom of encouragement behind his eyes. With a short, huffed laugh, I began leading the way. I brought him through the park—starting with the play structure, which stored core memories in its dense metal bars. It was as if I could see my inner child playing in front of me, his smile bright and full of life.

      There was a small family at a picnic table and two kids on the sea saw; but it was still early in the afternoon, so the park was relatively quiet. I spotted a few birds that chased each other around the structure. Levi looked at the swing sets with a particular fondness, and I walked over to one and grabbed the aged chain. "Want to get on?" I asked.

      He glanced at me with wide eyes. "Seriously?" he asked.

      I huffed a small laugh. "Yeah, seriously. But I don't know how stable they are. These chains probably haven't been changed since I was little," I said, looking up at the rusted metal.

      He shrugged before hopping onto a swing—it sunk down and grew taut with his sudden weight. "If we fall on our asses, at least we'd have a story to tell," he said.

      I followed his lead and slid into the one beside him. The sides of the black leather seat dug into my hips, and I grunted as I adjusted to the tight hug. "Is your ass too fat?" he teased.

      I rolled my eyes. "It's not my fault you're the size of a walnut," I bit back, and he tried to punch me. Instead, his fist sliced through the air and he pushed himself forward on the swing.

      I snorted, but he took his missed shot as the chance to grip the chains and push himself back and forth. There was a grating screech of metal against metal as he swayed, but it almost added to the youthful atmosphere we were beginning to build. The sound was so uncanny—though it was two adults living the lives of children. Well, maybe two adults.

      "How old are you, by the way?" I asked to get my answer. We gently swung back and forth, the wind barely brushing against our skin.

      He looked up from his feet, which couldn't touch the floor. I almost laughed at the realization, but I managed to only let a smile sneak through. "Seventeen. Why?" My smile dropped as my heart sank the slightest bit, though I wasn't even sure why. That was the answer I should have expected—more than half of my grade was that age. The feeling settled a mild discomfort in my gut, one I knew only stemmed from years of internalized judgement and conditioning.

      "Nothing, just wondering," I played it off.

      He hummed. "How old are you?" he asked curiously. I sighed, debating withholding the truth for the sake of my own comfort, but I knew lying would have only screwed me over in the long run. Especially if Kenny and my parents decided to have more 'dinners.'

      "Nineteen," I said, looking over at him. I wasn't surprised to see his eyes grow slightly wide—a reaction I had grown used to.

      "Oh. The year isn't even over yet—when is your birthday?" he asked, his deep voice quiet and airy. Though I noticed it didn't carry any judgement or disgust. Merely a sense of curiosity.

      I sighed. "March thirtieth." There was no point in digging myself into a lopsided hole when I had already started with the truth.

      His eyebrows flew up on his head. "Oh," he said with surprise.

      I groaned. "I know. It's not as bad as it sounds, I swear. I'm not stupid or anything, I just... my childhood was... complicated. I had to go to school later than everyone else. But instead of preparing me to start the grade my age group was in, my mom taught me the bare minimum then basically gave up. So, they decided to start me in kindergarten when I was seven, while everyone else was four and five." I realized I was over-explaining about halfway in, but I couldn't will myself to stop. A meek sense of embarrassment met me afterward.

      A moment of silence passed between us. Worried I had said too much, I glanced down at my feet. But a small, huffed breath barely carried over the air, and I looked up at Levi to see a small smirk lifting his lips. "I didn't think you were stupid," he said simply. I rolled my eyes, but I noticed that my shoulders had significantly relaxed.

      "Most people do. I mean, I'm going be twenty before the school year is even over. If I were anyone else, I'd probably think I was stupid, too," I admitted.

      He shook his head. "Basing someone’s intellect on their age in school is stupid; you never know what someone's circumstance is. That's why I didn't immediately assume intelligence was involved in you being held back," he said.

      I pinched my eyebrows together. "Thanks, actually..." I said quietly.

      He shrugged, turning forward with an impassive expression. "I'm going to be eighteen next month," he blurted, eyeing the ground below him.

      I smirked. "That was random," I teased.

      He shrugged again. "Just in case you were wondering," he said casually, mindlessly climbing his hand up one of the chains. I hummed, watching him look up at the gray sky and avoid my gaze.

      I shook my head with a quiet laugh before slowing to a full stop by dragging my foot on the ground, sliding off the swing and dusting my pants off with a sigh. "Come on. I wanna show you the best place here," I said. He raised an eyebrow before hopping off, not bothering to wait for the swing to stop.

      I led him away from the play structure, heading into the dimly lit field littered with trees that cast a shadowy overhang across the dying grass. A particularly large willow tree stood out, fleeting images of a time long gone rushing through my mind, but I looked ahead.

      The play structure behind us gradually grew distant until it was almost hidden by the trees surrounding it. We walked along a faded gravely path in silence, met by the whispers of wind and the rustling leaves that remained. He lingered a couple of steps behind me, allowing me to lead the way.

      I broke the silence first. "So, why are you so interested in picking people apart?" I asked, glancing at him as I pushed my hands into my pockets.

     He hugged his jacket closer to his body, pursing his lips before he responded. "I've always been really interested in the human brain. It’s a twisted place, but it holds a lot of beauty. We're all perfectly flawed—each of us carry a stone carved throughout our life, but each person's stone is cracked in different places. No two people carry the same one. Some have more cracks than others, some barely have a scratch. I like to examine them. Each one comes with their own story."

      I raised my eyebrows, contemplating his explanation and admiring the metaphor he used. "That's really interesting. I never really considered the stone thing, but that's really true," I said with a nod.

      He looked up from the ground and into my eyes. "You seem like you have a lot of cracks in yours," he pointed out.

      I huffed a small laugh, looking down. "You don't know the half of it," I mumbled.

      A beat of silence passed. "I'd like to know," he said quietly.

      I lifted my head up to look at him, my eyebrows barely pinched as I tilted my head to the side with a small smirk. "Why the particular interest in me?" I asked.

      He shrugged, looking down at the floor again. "I already told you, you piqued my interest. Your stone seems the most intricate," he said smoothly.

      I grinned, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. "Silly little poet," I teased.

      He scoffed, but a sudden and familiar sound met the air, and I paused. He followed, halting beside me and eyeing me curiously. "Do you hear that?" I asked with bubbling excitement.

      He seemed to hone in on the sounds around us, his expression pinching with focus. Then, realization dawned on him. "It sounds like water," he said.

      I nodded. "Yep. Come on, it's even cooler than it sounds," I said before biting my lip and rushing to the sound. He huffed a breathy laugh before I heard his footsteps hurry behind me. When the line of trees beside us began to lessen, a vast stretch of nothing was revealed.

      By that, I meant we had reached the cliff.

      "There's a whole ass canyon back here?" He asked, voice loud with shock as it carried over the water.

      I chuckled. "Yeah. It's really random, but it's awesome," I said, slowing down as we reached the path that ran just along the side of the cliff. "The water you hear is a river that the cliff drops to. It leads to the lake that divides Sina and Rose, the city to the East," I explained.

      He raised an eyebrow at me. "Can you jump?" he asked.

      I quickly shook my head. "Nope—it's super shallow. You'd die instantly," I said, and he blinked in surprise.

      I led us to the fence settled between the path and the cliff, thin rows of entwined metal wire weakly protecting one from the risk of falling to their death. We both looked through it to glance down at the roaring rush of water several yards below.

      "And since you're so interested, here's one thing about me," I began. I stepped away from the fence and walked to the yellow sign that said in bold letters 'DO NOT GO PASSED THIS POINT,' leaning against it with my arms crossed over my chest. "I like to come here for some peace and quiet."

      Levi looked across the canyon with eyes of fond wonder, leaning his weight on one hip as he took a deep breath of the crisp, river-misted air. "Is the rest of your life too loud?" he asked as he looked at me.

      "Yeah. Something like that," I said quietly as I looked into his eyes.

      He glanced at the sign behind me, smirking and tilting his head. "The sign has a typo. It's supposed to say past, with a 't,' not passed with an ‘ed,'” he randomly noted.

      I glanced over my shoulder at the bold letters, snorting. "Leave it to you to notice that," I teased, turning back to him.

      He shrugged. "And let me guess; you go past the sign?" he amusedly assumed. I smirked, silently responding by sliding off the sign, walking backwards, and hopping over the fence. After landing on the grass-spotted ground, I raised my arms beside me with my back turned to the cliff, letting the damp wind brush against my skin.

      Levi rolled his eyes, but smirked and followed me over the fence. "Be careful, the wind might blow you over," I teased. He lightly punched my arm, and I chuckled as I swatted him away.

      A moment of silence passed. I sat down on the earthy floor, breathing in the fresh, chilled air. The sound of the water echoing across the ravine below instilled a calm feeling despite its uncontrollable force.

      "Have there been any suicides here?" Levi cut through the silence, squatting beside me.

      I turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You would ask that question," I said.

      He casually shrugged "I'm a morbidly curious person,” he answered simply.

      I chuckled, but contemplated his question nevertheless. "Not for a long time," I began. "Guess people are a little more put-together here."

      He hummed. "Or too afraid to end it all," he challenged.

      I pursed my lips with a nod. "I don't blame them. That's a pretty far drop." I leaned forward to glance further into the canyon, looking over the sharp and jagged rocks that hugged the edges of the ninety degree incline. Nearly translucent water rushed and crashed along the sides, years of gradual erosion evident near the bottom.

      "Makes it more fun on the way down, though," Levi said.

      I laughed as I turned to him with wide eyes. "Jesus," I said in disbelief.

      He looked at me with a downturned smile, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

      I looked ahead again, staring up at the clouds that inched their way across the sky, carried by the wind with no destination. “What about you? What's your mysterious story?" I asked, resting my hands on the ground behind me.

      He sighed, curling his arms around his knees. "There isn't much to tell. We moved because life got too cramped in that little town. The world was too small for me," he simply explained.

      I hummed, slowly nodding. "So you needed something bigger? More stimulating?" I asked, having a meek sense of hope that we might carry the same desire.

      He shrugged. "I guess you could say that," he said quietly, moving one hand to twiddle the grass beside his feet with his fingers.

      "Same here. Did you... leave anyone behind?" I wasn't sure what had risen the odd sense of curiosity. I began to imagine faces of those I once loved, drawing my eyebrows together.

      "No. Not really," he answered, though there was an odd, somber tone to his voice that raised suspicion.

      Instead of prodding, I merely nodded. "All alone. I feel that," I said.

      He huffed, weakly punching me on the shoulder. "Don't make it sound so edgy, Mr. Loner," he teased.

      I grinned, turning to look at him. "Am I too brooding for you?" I asked playfully.

      He rolled his eyes. "If you were any more brooding I think I'd keel over and die," he dramatized, pretending to gag as he stuck his tongue out.

      I scoffed, shaking my head before we relaxed again. "So why this city instead of some huge one like Los Angeles or New York? I can’t say this place is the most riveting you could have chosen from," I asked. If I had the chance to escape to another world by moving away now, I absolutely would have.

      He groaned, leaning his head back in frustration as if I had just resurfaced something. "My uncle actually used to live in New York City when I was a newborn, but he won't tell me much about it. He moved us to Mitras shortly after he adopted me. I don't know what happened—now he is way too paranoid for a place of that capacity. We came to a compromise with this city," he grimly explained.

      "Some compromise," I mumbled, a small frown curling my lips.

      He shrugged. "It's not so bad so far," he said as he looked at me. I had a feeling the meaning behind his words left a lot unspoken. "But I'd like to go to a big city one day—see what's out there," he added.

      "Find more minds to pick apart?" I asked with a smirk.

      "Yours might just take all the willpower I have," he teased.

      "It just might," I said quietly. He lingered on the words, eyeing my expression for a moment before he turned away. I continued to look at him, trailing my eyes down to his lips before I slid my bottom one between my teeth. A moment later, I turned to look down at the ground, trying to ignore the way my heart thumped in my chest.

      We sat in silence for several minutes, simply enjoying our surroundings. "I could totally write a poem about this place," he whispered, his voice barely carrying over the air.

      I smirked as I glanced at him. "Oh yeah? What would it be about?" I asked.

      He blinked for a moment before glancing at me with an odd look in his eyes. He almost appeared taken aback, as if he hadn't expected me to respond. But soon, he looked forward again. "Probably the risk of death it brings," he said simply.

      I chuckled, shaking my head. "Why am I not surprised?" I said rhetorically, and he rolled his eyes.

      After a few moments, a thought suddenly occurred to me. "By the way, was Kenny really hitting on my mom?" My question seemed to shift the atmosphere around us, and he jerked his head to me with wide eyes.

      "Oh my god, yeah. He's obsessed with her. Is your parents' marriage doing well?" He hugged his legs to his body, raising a curious eyebrow at me.

      I scoffed at the confirmation. I wasn't actually expecting it to be true. I thought about his question for a moment, realizing that was something he hadn't considered in a while. I shrugged. "I mean, yeah. They're like best friends; they agree on pretty much everything," I settled on. That's how it felt, at least. They had always been a tag team—specifically against me.

      He snorted—a sound I found particularly adorable, and one I didn't expect to come out of him. "Good. Because your mother is exactly my uncle's type, and let's just say he isn't the one-and-done kind of guy," he said with a roll of his eyes.

      I raised my eyebrows, sitting up straight and crossing my arms with a smirk. "Are you saying Kenny is a player?" The idea was hilarious—he didn't give me player vibes at first, but for some reason I could picture it perfectly.

      He shook his head. "That feels like an understatement. I think I've seen him with at least a hundred different women growing up. And believe me, I try to keep him on a leash, but when he sets his eyes on something, he sets them—married or not," he grumbled.

      I laughed, my shoulders bouncing with the sound. "That's hilarious. Alright, thanks for the warning. Why my mom though? There are plenty of single women in the neighborhood," I said. According to the rumors floating around the block, there were also some unstable marriages.

      Levi scoffed, his eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? Your mom is a total milf, Eren," he proclaimed.

      I gagged, shoving my face into my hands as I rapidly shook my head. "Oh my god, never say that again or I'm pushing you off the cliff," I threatened.

      He let out an eerie chuckle. "It's not my fault I'm right," he teased, and I lifted my head to glare at him. "Plus, I think marriage being involved gives him more of a challenge. He's a total home-wrecker," Levi continued, swinging his hand through the air.

      "For some reason, that doesn't surprise me,” I said with a shake of my head.

     "It doesn't surprise anyone. He likes to act all innocent, but he's out to steal every woman he can get his mitten-clad hands on—and he's not very subtle about it," he grumbled, making claw-like gestures in the air.

      I hummed. "No, he's not. My parents bickered about it that night, actually," I said.

      He raised his eyebrows. "Wow, that was fast," he said in near disbelief.

      "Kenny sure knows what he's doing," I said, thinking back on the conversation with a scoff.

      "A little too well," Levi mumbled.

      The idea of Levi's uncle trying to reel my mom in was discomforting for a multitude of reasons, but I had to admit it was a little amusing. I knew my parents' marriage was safe; they were each other's rock, and they had been all my life. I wondered how this new blanket of drama was going to unfold.

      We settled into a comfortable silence once more. I looked over at Levi, soaking in the way he had gently shut his eyes. He appeared to bask in our environment, his dark hair gently swaying with the wind that whipped with the water down below. Only a few feet in front of us was a drop that could end in our demise. For some reason I imagined the rock beneath us crumbling into the river, ourselves along with it. Instead of the thought filling me with fear, a sense of wonder overcame me.

      "If you could have only one superpower, what would it be?" I asked. He slowly opened his eyes, and the storm of his irises complimented the sheet of gray that clouded the air above us.

      "Flight," he said simply.

      I could feel my heart flutter, a speed that entered unknown territory and ignited a spark of excitement in my chest.

      "You and I are really alike," I mumbled. And though my voice was distant, he caught the words with the faint huff of amusement that left his nose.

      "I knew that from the start," he said quietly.

Chapter Text

Vulnerability

      Inch by inch, creak by creak, I attempted to shut the front door as quietly as I conceivably could. The click of the lock was nearly inaudible as I discreetly checked my surroundings, noting two important factors; the TV was off, and the kitchen light was on.

      Thank God for new floorboards. With grateful feet, I began to tiptoe through the entryway on weightless bones.

      I had no idea Eren and I had been out for as long as we were until I regretfully checked my phone. Four hours we had spent at the park together, mindlessly talking about the most arbitrary topics that came to mind. The sun was terrifyingly low in the sky, and I practically sprinted home at full speed when I had seen the seven missed calls from my uncle.

      Now that I was home, I was going to tread to my room with the most furtive steps I could conjure, as if I was merely a feather floating through the quiet house. I'd done it before—sometimes my uncle was so enraptured in whatever his new weekly hyper-fixation was that when I claimed I had come home without him noticing, he waved it off as his own lack of awareness. As long as I didn't blow my cover, as long as nothing gave away my position, I would succeed.

      Then, a familiar gray mass darted around the corner, and my eyes widened as terror gripped me.

     "TenSoon, no!" I whispered harshly, holding my hands out in front of me as he came barreling toward me. The clicking clamor of his black, overgrown nails echoed across the hall. I jerked my head toward the light that crept in through the kitchen, which painted the walls a faint yellow hue. A gruff voice didn't follow, and I sighed with relief.

      I desperately gave TenSoon the attention he demanded, tightly pursing my lips as he shoved his snout into my stomach. I kept my feet firmly rooted to the ground, my heart pumping with the vigor of a hammer as I prayed he wouldn't shove me backward.

      This is fine, this has happened before; as long as he remains quiet, there won't be anything to worry about—

      His booming bark that rang through my skull shattered any remaining hope of inconspicuousness I had left, like fragile glass beneath the wrath of an ear-piercing scream.

      "Oi!" My uncle's abrasive call from the kitchen—its grating force unhindered by the distance between us—sent rabid goosebumps up the course of my spine.

      "Fuck," I cursed, sighing as my shoulders sagged with utter defeat. His rapid footsteps grew louder as he hurriedly neared the hall, and I threw my hand on my forehead as TenSoon leapt like an innocent puppy with his tongue dangling from his jaw.

      "Levi! Where on God's green earth have you been?!" Any sense of pride I still carried shriveled into a moldy raisin in the pit of my stomach, but weighed as heavy as a bolder as it sank within me. I dropped my hand and tucked them both into my pockets.

      After taking a deep breath, I shrugged. "Actually, the earth is increasingly growing more brown and gray with each passing year as global warming, pollution, and deforestation increasingly wreak havoc over natural life—" I officiously began.

      Kenny held his hand up, silencing me.
"I'm not messing around, Levi. Where have you been?" he said with the exasperation of a man on his last breath.

      I paused for a moment. "I've been here the whole time," I tried with a shrug, twisting my lips to the side and keeping my eyes glued to the ceiling. There was no point in completely giving up on my prior goal. If luck was on my side, it was quite easy to beguile him.

      But he took several steps closer with his arms crossed over his chest, and I knew my hope was in vain. I despised how he towered over me like a lanky giant—why did I get the short genes? "Boy, I swear, I'm giving you one more chance—" he began.

      I threw my hands up in surrender. “I was just out. I wanted to see more of the city because you won't take me to, so I went to Sina park," I explained as if it was a math problem a three year old could solve. Because it was.

      But he didn't seem to agree, as he raised his eyebrows so significantly that they almost disappeared in his receding hairline. "By yourself? Levi, we are in a new city. A much bigger city. You can't just go traveling anywhere without me knowin' about it," he reprimanded. His French-laced drawl was making an appearance, meaning he was getting angrier by the second.

      I groaned, the sound melting with frustration. "I wasn't by myself. But even if I was—I am going to be eighteen in almost a month! You can't hold me here forever," I snapped, clenching my fists by my sides.

      My uncle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in momentary silence, before he pushed his graying hair back with a clawed hand. When he lifted it, realization crossed over his features, and his eyes narrowed in of suspicion. "What do you mean you weren't by yourself?"

      I attempted to hide the way my heart sank despite knowing my eyes had widened for a fraction of a second, calmly doubling back while clearing my throat.

      "I didn't say that," I mumbled, and my uncle raised both eyebrows again before stepping closer.

      "Was it that Eren boy?" His voice raised in volume, nearing a vituperating yell.

      I scoffed. "You can stop calling him 'that Eren boy.' It's just Eren; and so what if I was?" I defiantly crossed my arms over my chest and glared into the eyes that mirrored my own.

      A frown furrowed the edges of his lips, deepening the wrinkles that paved his cheeks. "I told you to stay away from that kid, Levi," he calmly began, despite the evident decry behind his tone.

      I threw my hands out beside me. "You don't even know him! And no, you didn't tell me to 'stay away,' you told me to 'keep an eye on him,' which is pretty much the exact opposite of 'stay away,'" I bit back. I didn't care that my tone was choleric, I wasn't peeved by my act of defiance, I was exhausted by this constant debate of who I befriended.

      He clicked his tongue. "Don't get smart with me, boy. I don't get good vibes from that kid—I know his type, and he means trouble," he insisted, firmly planting his hand in the air to solidify his point as if it was drilled in concrete.

      I rolled my eyes so hard they might have fallen out if they weren't attached to my brain. "You think everyone is the type that means trouble. Newsflash, the entire world isn't out to get me," I spat matter-of-factly.

      He sighed again, the sound was rough and ragged, evidence of his exhaustion. But I wasn't going to be pummeled into submission this time. "This is supposed to be a fresh start for me, uncle, but you're treating me exactly how you did in Mitras!" I snapped. I stomped forward and tried to shove past him, but he gripped my arm and planted me by his side. With a deep frown, I complied, but I kept my fiery gaze glued to the floor, which could have melted beneath my vehement stare.

      "It's for your own protection, Levi," he said sternly.

      I firmly shook my arm from his grasp. "Sure, like how bringing all of those women into the house and hitting on my only new friend's married mom is for my own protection?" I snapped.

      The air quickly coagulated with heavy tension, and he was rendered silent. His expression was impassive, painted with indifference, but I knew I had struck a nerve by the way he took a step back.

      His lips curled into a small smirk, and he shook his head as he tucked a hand into his pocket. "Just—tell me where you are next time. I was worried sick," he said calmly. "Out fuckin' around, hanging out with boys, whatever. You don't have to be an open book. Just... tell me where you are."

      As much as I could have tried, I couldn't ignore the sincere plea behind his words. He was genuinely concerned—and despite the urge beneath my skin that wanted me to bitch further, I could be cogent enough to forcibly reel myself in. At the end of the day I was lucky that he cared about my well-being rather than disposed of it, even if it was in his own overbearing way.

      I forced my posture to relax, drawing my eyebrows together as I huffed a frustrated breath, and finally willed myself to calm down. "I will..." I mumbled begrudgingly.

      He chuckled, the sound was vapid and quiet. He curled an arm around my head and pulled me into his chest, resting his chin on my hair. "You know I love you, brat," he said calmly.

      I grumbled, but meekly wrapped my arms around his middle. "Whatever," I mumbled before weakly pushing him away.

      He released his grip and grinned down at me, ruffling my hair with his raised hand. "I know you're just being a teenager. It still scares me sometimes. I wish you were still that little ten year old running around writing on the walls," he said with a playfully longing tone.

      I scoffed. "No, you don't. You lost the security deposit after that," I said.

      He cackled. "That's true! How was I supposed to know you were going to write half the script to The Great Gatsby on your bedroom wall? Now, go do your homework; dinner will be ready in a bit." He shoved my head back with his hand, and I nearly fell backward before I caught myself and spun toward the hall, heading directly for my bedroom.

      The thought of Eren was like a stick to the drum that was my rapid heart, as well as the cause of heat that had already begun brewing between my legs.

      When I finally arrived at home, the air seemed oddly thick. I shut the door behind me, a faint skip in my step as I entered the living room. I immediately noticed my parents' slouched backs. My dad was on his leather recliner, his elbows atop his knees and his hands folded beneath his chin, while my mom sat at the end of the couch with her arms draped over her lap. Upon further notice, I realized they equally carried downcast, grim expressions.

      "Who died?" I asked crudely, one of my eyebrows curled up.

      My mom was startled, flinching before she sighed and turned to glance at my chest. “Nobody died, Eren, come on," she mumbled, her tone reeking of exhaustion.

      "Certainly seems like it," I mumbled.

      She inflated her chest with a deep, recovering breath, sitting up straighter. "Sorry, just some news about a patient at the clinic," she explained. I tried to hide the disgusted frown that threatened to curl my lips at the mention of the place, but I could tell I failed miserably.

      I shrugged with indifference, slipping my backpack off and onto the floor as I hopped over the couch and planted myself next to her. "Someone's in a good mood," she commented, eyeing me up.

      I sighed, rolling my shoulders back. "Is it that obvious?" I asked with a small smirk.

      She simply nodded. "We were surprised you weren't here when we got back. Did you go to the park?" she added as she reached forward for her cup of tea on the coffee table.

      I hadn't expected her to immediately jump to that conclusion since I hadn't gone in quite some time. "That I did," I confirmed with my chin held high. My dad was quiet on his recliner. He appeared deep in thought, occupied by whatever had happened at his facility.

      My mom hummed. "You hadn't visited in quite a while; I was starting to wonder if you were becoming too old," she mused. There was a slight hesitancy to her tone. Barely there, yet noticeable. She was aware she was potentially treading on thin ice. But despite the venom that had rotted the park's history, if anything had made itself clear today, it was that it had a chance to become a source of comfort in my life again.

      Only now, with someone else.

      The idea was daunting, but when I considered it I felt the same sense of intrigue and excitement I had each time I had looked at Levi.

      "You don't become too old for parks, mom. You evolve with them," I stated matter-of-factly.

      She chuckled, shaking her head. "Of course," she teased. Her voice sounded slightly raspy, but I deemed it as stress. I didn't feel like prying into news about the place I'd grown to despise. I also wasn’t keen on letting their horrible moods leech onto me, so I shot up from my seat at the couch, grabbed my backpack, and headed for the stairs.

      When I reached my bedroom and shut the door behind me, I practically collapsed onto the bed. I wasn't having a manic episode, my body quickly realized I was way too exhausted after only three hours of sleep the night before, but I could feel my chest swelling with excitement and anticipation—emotions that had been so difficult to come by before Levi pushed his way into my life.

      I tried to stop myself from grinning with forced, downturned lips, but my heart soon won dictatorship, and I broke into a smile. I slid my bottom lip between my teeth as I shoved my hands between my head and the pillow beneath me, staring at the ceiling with distant eyes.

      Soon, I tugged one hand from under my pillow and pulled out my phone, clicking on my gallery and almost instinctively going to the photo of Levi. It existed in the forefront of my mind now, and each time I looked at it, it was as if I noticed a new feature. It was times like these I was grateful for our nearly unlimited wealth that my mother didn't like to talk about—my newest phone model allowed the quality of the photo to closely resemble that of my own eyes. I could soak in the intricate details of his face when I zoomed in with a stroke of my index finger and thumb, like the little freckle on the right side of his eye that was darker than all of the others, contrasting his pale skin.

      I thought about the way he looked at me, how he had slowly evolved into something new and intriguing with each passing moment we spent together. Every new glimpse was one to unpack, holding emotion that felt impossible to pick apart. He was mysterious that way. And then there was the way that he teased, the confidence in his undoing of my self-assurance. The way he was able to crack into me with such accuracy.

      Upon realizing my attraction to him, I was able to appreciate how he looked on a pedestal entirely new. He was nearly ethereal looking, porcelain and delicate, yet with a sharpness that was parallel with his demeanor.

      Then there were the little things—the way he looked while focusing, how passionate he became when he talked about writing and literature—even that stupid way he had corrected a typo on a legal sign that the city had made. How small he was for a seventeen-year-old, thoughts of how he'd look in his oversized sweater while wrapped up in my arms. He would no doubt appear as if he was drowning, especially if I rested my chin on his forehead, which I would have had to bend down to do.

      It was an image I could somehow conjure so easily in my head, despite the intimacy of the action being so abnormal for me.

      I was quickly growing to realize that my feelings were becoming much more intense than I had initially thought them to be.

      But... there were problems.

      Problems that dwindled my smile into a meek, pursed frown. Problems that curled my eyebrows together until a crease formed between them. Problems that caused my phone to slip from my hand and fall against my chest, the screen that portrayed him now hidden.

      Of course there were problems.

      I swallowed, blinking a few times as I sucked in a sharp breath. Reality seemed to crash into me like a tidal wave, quickly dragging me into its dark waters.

      The truth is, he knows nothing about me. Nothing about my powers that would change everything he knew about the world, nothing about my disorders that had to be constantly monitored and medicated, nothing about who I really was. He was viewing a mask, one I'd learned to glue to my skin on a day-to-day basis.

      The last people I had entrusted my full, uninhibited self to had decided it had been too much for them. And the very people who had given me life and shelter viewed me as an outcast, a rusty nail hammered into their pristine white wall.

      Levi had said my stone seemed the most cracked—he had admitted to wanting to pick me apart until he knew everything about me. He knew I was flawed, he understood that there were things he remained unaware of.

      But how would he feel if he knew just how gravely fucked up I really was, and how rusty my nail would always be?

      Would he still look at me with that intrigued glimmer in his eyes if he knew what I was capable of? If he was aware of how I struggled just to hone a sense of stability on a daily basis? Would he still remain determined to pick me apart if he knew how abnormal by very existence was? How feared and unnatural my abilities were?

      I knew what the answer would be, and it pained me to admit it. But that pain was due to my own hand. I had become lost during a few fleeting days of curiosity, of human contact with a force of nature that had proved to be unlike anyone I had ever met. I fell for delusion in only a moment of time, one that created a hole of momentary vulnerability in my chest that allowed him to claw his way in.

      But now, I had to face the truth. A distance of arms-length was the only way I could survive in this life without facing the same pain that had struck a knife in my past.

      The realization surged a sharp pang through my chest, one that swelled a lump in my throat, but I swallowed it down. It was as if the motor of my heart had been roaring with life, only to skip to a damaging stop. I couldn't get my hopes up. Things weren't going to be different this time—that was something I had to accept. They had never been different, and there was no point in wondering if now would be when that changed.

      I would only experience disappointment. And that was a path that had already been paved.

      I had told myself I didn't want anyone else to experience the same attraction to him, but the truth was, it would be best if it were anyone other than myself who did.

      After a deep breath through my nose, I allowed any hope I had to release. A vacancy remained in its departure, one I had grown long used to, one that was more familiar than the untouched waters I had started to dip my feet in.

      Too overwhelmed with the slew of emotions that still threatened to change my mind, I turned onto my side, letting my phone slip onto the sheets beside me as I burrowed my head into my pillow. I allowed exhaustion to finally capture me.

      And before I knew it, I had fallen asleep.

      The first thought I had upon waking up the next day was that I wished I hadn't.

      Now, that wasn't an uncommon thought, though what wasn't as common was the heavy, truthful weight behind it this time.

      I blinked up at the ceiling, feeling a familiar sense of despair claw at my chest.
I sighed, the heaviness that washed over me pulling my eyes shut. I wanted the darkness I saw to consume me until I was nothing but a void. This feeling wasn't the same sense of frustration I felt the previous morning after only three hours of sleep. No, this was a deeply-rooted exhaustion, a hollowness that glued my body to the bed.

      I had spent the rest of yesterday evening lulling in and out of a depressive sleep, only leaving my room to grab dinner before secluding myself again. I'd even fallen asleep in my jeans and T-shirt, which were tight against my skin and quickly overstimulating.

      The term 'tomorrow is a new day' was incredibly flawed, as sure, the day of the week had changed, but the emptiness that I felt had followed it.

      I threw a tired fist over my face and swallowed, tightly clenching my eyes shut beneath my balled-up-hand before sighing.

      I could mull over why I was experiencing this sudden wave of depression, I could spend time processing the reasoning behind my pitiful emotions after the majority of yesterday had been so uplifting. But the truth was, I didn't have the energy to try. I didn't care enough to bother. Letting it take over was easier than attempting to stop it. Losing to it was easier than fighting it off.

      On the surface, the reasoning was clear. I just didn't want to face it. I didn't want to confront the realization I had come to last night all over again.

      But I couldn't stop thinking of his face with such sorrow and longing in my heart.

      The knocking that followed seconds later was like a drill against my skull.

      'Eren? Are you getting ready for school?'

      If I heard her ask that one more time, I might kill her.

      "Eren? Are you–"

      “No. Get out," I snapped.

      "Excuse me?" My mom pushed my front door open and I jerked my head to it, slamming it shut against her and forcing her out of my room. It was futile, however, as I didn't have a lock on my door. That privilege was taken from me long ago. So I wasn’t surprised when she shoved it back open and pushed herself inside with vehement steps. "Are you serious? Disrespecting me is one thing, but if you use your powers on me one more time, you'll be doing nothing but going to school and work until you graduate, do you hear me?"

      The growl-like groan of a sound that escaped me resembled that of a monster. It may have even shocked me on any other day, but as it tore through my throat and I watched my mother jerk her head back, I couldn't find the will to care. "I don't give a shit. I'm not going to school today. Get the fuck out of my room," I snapped. I glared at the ceiling as I huffed through a tight jaw, imagining it bursting into flames above me. Telling her I was depressed didn't matter—it never did. She didn't care.

      She slammed her feet forward, and in the distance, I heard a door shut. Fuck.

      "Are you KIDDING me?" she viciously began. "Eren Jaeger, if you EVER talk to me like that again–"

      "WHAT? What exactly are you going to do, mom? What the FUCK can you do?!" My world was steadily falling apart with every word I shot back to the woman who gave birth to me, and with each heavy footstep that came from the hallway, the walls around me crumbled. My mind was steadily going blank, and any regret that could have followed my behavior vanquished into the suffocating air.

      "Eren," my dad’s voice boomed through the room, deep and commanding. But that was all he ever did. He said my name in a warning tone like a coward, as if it would do anything to make a change.

      "Your knight in shining armor is here, mom. Congratulations," I drawled, and I tore my gaze away from her expression as her eyes welled with tears.

      "What is wrong with you?! If you don't get yourself together right now, I will be calling Doctor Clark and you will be spending the day at his clinic!" she threatened, her voice a shrill tremble.

      Yeah, call the one doctor who actually gives a SHIT and see how far that fucking gets you!" I yelled back.

      This was quickly becoming one of the worst mornings we'd had in a while. Why did I keep going? Why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut? It was like a wall had appeared in front of me, keeping away any chance of seeing reason. Apathy, fury, exhaustion—they tumbled from of me without remorse.

      "How dare you say that when your father provides EVERYTHING you see in front of you each and every day!" the woman yelled.

      "You think I give a shit about what he fucking provides? I can't wait for the day I can move out of this fucking hellhole and not have to deal with you EVERY morning!" I shouted back.

      "That's ENOUGH! I don't care if you're having an episode, I don't care if you're depressed, your ungrateful behavior will not be tolerated in this house! We will NOT be spoken to this way!" she screamed.

      "You don't get to fucking decide how I talk to you when you treat me like a piece of shit you can't get rid of in your own fucking house; you're the ungrateful bitch!"

      Before I knew it, hands were gripping the front of my shirt. I gasped as I came face-to-face with my dad, who tugged me up by my collar with such fury and malice all I could do was stare at him with my eyes blown wide. "Don't you dare speak to your mother that way. Get the hell out of bed right now." I barely had the time to react as he yanked me from the covers and onto my stumbling feet. His eyes were glued to my neck as I desperately tried to search them for reason.

      This. This was new.

      This had never happened before.

      "Get your fucking hands off me!" I yelled on instinct before I could think any further, grabbing his wrists and ripping off his grip. Several of my drawers flew open, and the wood sounded like it had cracked upon the force.

      He only momentarily complied, as once I regained my balance, he grabbed a fistful of my shirt that pulled around my shoulder and shoved me toward the door. My mom had to quickly move out of the way so I wouldn't fall into her, and I barely caught the sight of her glassy eyes wide with shock. "Go to school! NOW!" my dad shouted. "Act like the fucking adult that you are for once in your goddamn life!" With that, he grabbed my backpack from the floor and shoved it into my arms, before violently pushing me through the door.

      Tears welled in my eyes as I clutched it and almost fell into the wall, the stinging sensation so new, so raw, all I could do was choke on the saliva that had quickly accumulated in my throat. I hadn't cried in years. But the ultimate confusion and betrayal that gripped me flooded my heart, and all I could do was stumble down the hallway and toward the stairs.

      I heaved as I nearly tripped down to the first floor while throwing my backpack over my shoulders. My vision was blurry as glass coated it, yet tears never fell. They remained glued to my waterline as I vacantly reached the entryway. I haphazardly pulled on my shoes and tugged the front door open without thought, as if on autopilot.

      Meeting the frigid air of November was like walking into a wall of ice. I gasped before shutting the door behind me, a sharp chill filling my lungs with daggers and the gust of wind freezing the tears that wouldn't spill. I failed to grasp what had happened, how that became the outcome of the vicious fight. It was like static that rippled through my brain, scenes broken and uncoordinated. I could feel myself splitting, teetering on the edge of a Borderline episode. Shock covered me like a blanket of cold water, and I desperately tried to ground myself as I took short, sharp breaths.

      And with that, I realized I hadn't taken my medication before leaving.

      "FUCK!" I yelled, turning and slamming my fist into the front door. I could barely feel the stinging sensation that shot through my hand. My knuckles throbbed as I took in a lungful of air, exhaustion washing over me upon staggering backward.

      Whatever rage had overcome me upon my mom walking through my bedroom door quickly dwindled until a profound, desolate ache replaced it, the emotions I had felt after waking up becoming painfully raw. And now, I was reaping what I had sewed.

      My dad—if I should even call him that—standing on the sidelines was something I had always loathed, yet had grown used to. I almost relied on it. I could argue with my mom, we could shoot profanities at one another and scream our heads off, yet he had only ever stepped in when my powers had been involved.

      This time, not only had he intervened when the argument was only verbal, but he had put his hands on me. Violently. It wasn't to control an IED outburst that had resulted in my Telekinesis spiraling. It wasn't to protect myself and my mom from the harm my power could potentially cause.

      He had manhandled me in a way he'd never done before.

      I desperately tried to wrack my brain on what could have caused it. What had made this time different than the rest? What had triggered him to act so unhinged? I paced the sidewalk in front of my home, unwilling to begin walking in any feasible direction until I could make sense of the confusion that taunted me.

     Had that kind of rage always been buried in my dad? Had he always be capable of behaving such a way toward me, and something had made it surface?

      Think, Eren. Think. What was the last thing you said before he snapped?

      Everything was hazy. I struggled to remember every detail of the argument as my mind already fought to block it from my memory, but crucial parts remained foggy.

      "You're the ungrateful bitch!"

      Realization crashed down on me at full force.

      The derogatory word had escaped me without hesitation. I hadn't even thought of what I was saying or what the consequences could have been before it tumbled out of my mouth. I looked around my surroundings with wide, piercing eyes, then down at my own hands as if I was viewing only a shell of who I was.

      I swallowed thickly, turning to the front door, clenching my fists by my sides. A fork in the road came to life ahead of me—one path leading back inside and apologizing to my mom, and the other continuing ahead down the sidewalk.

      Maybe my mom deserved to hear it. She never understood where I was coming from—she constantly made me feel invalidated and unwanted.

      No. What was I saying?

      Wait, no, I was right. She always made me feel that way.

      Suddenly, I caught movement in my peripheral, and I turned to see Janice, one of our neighbors, sitting on her porch. She was staring at me, eyeing me up and down with a look that reeked of judgment and shame. I didn't have to read her mind before she tore her head away to know what she was thinking of me.

      And as anger overwhelmed me, I jerked my eyes to the sidewalk and began the stiff, tense steps in the direction of Sina High. It would be a thirty minute walk by foot. I shivered as I realized I hadn’t put on a jacket, but I couldn't find the will to care.

      I wasn't even sure why I ended up walking to school. The building felt cold and unforgiving as I glanced up at the gate, even as warm bodies trickled through it. I continued to feel like I was on autopilot, trapped outside of myself and too exhausted to figure out where else to go. Frankly, the park was the last place I wanted to be right now.

      The sun was barely in the sky as the season plummeted further and further toward winter, a gray, dreary atmosphere blanketing the city and matching my mood. It felt as if the thick clouds above me were shaped like a giant finger, pointing directly at my chest and laughing.

      "Fuck you," I mumbled to no one but the air. If anyone had heard me, they probably thought I was crazy. Not that it mattered. I cared little for my reputation here, which was already practically in shambles.

      I dragged myself into the school with a deep frown, ignoring the occasional glances at my appearance—which was most likely disheveled and pathetic. I was still waking up. It was hard to believe that everything had happened within a matter of minutes after opening my eyes. My mental haze seemed to have teleported me here. I could feel my eyelids drooping, my bones heavy as I slothed my way through the hall.

      Remembering that I hadn't taken my medication began to settle an annoying itch beneath my skin. It had been years since I missed a day. As much as my mother's mistrust often accused me of skipping, and even though I loathed having to take them, I had regretfully grown to rely on the fucking pills that altered the chemicals in my brain until they behaved correctly.

      Without them, the world became too loud. Without them, I was at the mercy of everyone and everything around me. My thoughts grew from whispers to screams, voices seemed to echo in my skull. Sadness and anger became despair and rage.

      It was still too early to tell how today would end up, but the placebo of even knowing the medication wasn't stabilizing me was already taking effect. And with how horribly the morning had started, I was already feeling unstable.

      When I stopped at my locker, I quickly opened it and slung my backpack inside. With desperate fingers, I unzipped every pouch and dug through it. It was a fleeting hope that I would find my wireless earbuds, hope that dwindled into nothing when I remembered I had plugged them in by my bedside table after they'd died last night. Fuck. I wouldn't even be able to use music as a distraction.

      I grabbed my backpack and shut my locker. My brain worked quickly to find an escape, anything that could replace the prescriptions, even if temporary. Anything that could get me through the day so I wouldn't fall apart at the seams. I searched the hall, simultaneously itching to turn around and flee the school, run home, and fall at my knees before my parents.

      I truly was pathetic.

      Unexpectedly, my searching paid off when I spotted a blonde head of hair. The tresses were cut shoulder length, bone-straight bangs falling above cold, hardened eyes—eyes that had seen plenty more than I cared to think about.

      Guilt almost threatened me. Almost. Memories of my mother sobbing when she had found out what Yelena had become a gateway for tore met me, but I pushed them aside. The wrath of what my brain was capable of inflicting was more important. The need to find an escape before I slipped overwhelmed the begrudging promise I had made my mother back then, and I made a beeline toward the blonde as soon as she shut her locker.

      "Yelena," I called. She didn't turn her head right away, though I knew she had heard me. Her and I weren't friends—I doubted she was even friends with anyone, even the clique of four she hung out with whenever she decided school wasn't worth her time. When she did meet my eyes, I didn't bother reading her mind. The vacancy in her stare screamed enough, and I already knew the kind of thoughts she was plagued with on a day-to-day basis.

      "Hm?" she replied, the simple acknowledgement urging me to continue. Leaning closer, I glanced around at the few students who walked through the hall or lingered at their own locker. Everyone's attention was divided to their friends or themselves.

      Her sigh cut through the air before I could even open my mouth. "I know that look. Are you sure? You haven't asked me for anything in months; I thought you got threatened to be put in rehab or something." Her ability to catch on quickly was always astounding, though I supposed I hadn't been too subtle.

      "I nearly was. My parents are really dramatic. But I don't care now, I just need something to get me through the day, that’s all. Something pre-rolled if you have it, since I'm not really good at doing it myself," I quietly explained, shoving my hands in my jean pockets.

      She eyed me up, examining my appearance with a barely quirked eyebrow nearly the same color as her skin, before she jerked her head in the direction of the bathroom. "Fine. Come on," she muttered, swinging her backpack over her shoulder and turning her back to me.

      I followed her without question, the routine I had started to build a habit of only months ago coming back to me, as if it were like riding a bike. She headed straight into the boy's bathroom without hesitation, and didn't even flinch when Connie jerked his shaved head back at her from the urinal. "The fuck, dude?" he muttered. I almost huffed a laugh, but didn't have the energy to. We ignored him and entered the handicap stall at the end of the tiled room.

      After I shut the door behind me and slid the lock in place, she squatted and swung her backpack onto the dirty floor. "Do you want a joint or a blunt?" she asked quietly. Connie wasn't really a snitch, and I was pretty sure he smoked, too, but it was wise to at least be tactful while the walls echoed our voices so mercilessly.

      "I thought they were the same thing. Just whatever is cheaper," I replied. She looked up at me with a deadpan stare. I shrugged, and she rolled her eyes before opening the front pouch of her backpack.

      She pulled out a small, translucent, plastic container. I could barely make out what was inside, but I could put two-and-two together. When she popped it open, I noted that the four cones seemed to be made of a thin and pale paper instead of the brown tobacco wrap I was used to. I didn't really care, I only assumed she was giving me the cheaper alternative based on her two options.

      She tugged one out. On the end that I would press my lips against was a small, pale-orange butt that looked like the end of a cigarette, and the end I would light appeared sealed together. She held it up in front of me, still squatted on the floor, rolling the cone between her fingers. "This is a joint. It's basically the same thing as a blunt, made with the same weed, it's just in thin paper instead of tobacco wrap and a little smaller. Only a gram. Do you have a lighter?"

      I took the information for what it was, not caring about the lesser amount. It would be enough. I thought it was obvious that I didn't have a lighter since I didn’t really smoke anymore, but I guess she wouldn't automatically assume, so I shook my head.

      She sighed, seemingly over my lack of preparation, and dug through her bag with her free hand before pulling one out. "Hope you know it's extra," she said. I rolled my eyes, but pocketed it nevertheless. It was the most basic, plain, inexpensive lighter possible—matte, plastic, and the flat color of a clear sky, probably a dollar at most. Leave it to Yelena to extort everyone for everything.

      "Whatever. How much?" I asked, anxiously tapping my foot. She didn't immediately respond as she reached into her backpack and pulled out a tied wad of small plastic bags. She opened one, carefully placing the joint inside of it before zipping it shut.

      "Seventeen with the lighter," she said as she held her other hand out, keeping the bag above her lap.

      "Fuck," I grumbled, but she ignored my complaining with an expectant wave of her fingers. "I know, I know," I muttered before pulling my backpack off my arms. I held it against my body with one hand as I dug through it, shuffling through my bent notebooks and miscellaneous papers until I pulled out my wallet.

      I opened it and tugged out a twenty-dollar-bill. I didn't need to be frugal, I had been saving the majority of my paychecks since I started working part-time and had more than enough to buy whatever I needed, but I was saving for a reason. Graduating high school didn't miraculously give me an apartment to move into, and my parents had made it abundantly clear that if I wanted to move out, they weren't going to let me mooch off of my father's wealth.

      "If you really want to leave home right after high school instead of staying and seeing through college, you better be prepared to provide for yourself."

      It was my mother's cruel way of trying to scare me into living at home longer, but it wouldn't work.

      I handed Yelena the bill. A hint of a smirk lifted her thin lips, though it was uncomfortably cynical. She traded over the bag, which I quickly tucked into the same pocket the lighter was in, before pulling out her own wallet and harboring the money. She tugged out three one-dollar-bills of her own before laying them out in front of me with an outstretched hand. I took them with a sigh before shoving them into my wallet and returning it to my backpack.

      She quickly zipped up hers before swinging it over her shoulder. "Pleasure doing business with you. Don't get kicked outta school," she said casually before waving her fingers in a mock salute and circling around me. She unlocked and left the stall without another word, and her footsteps echoed through the bathroom before I watched her turn the corner and head into the hallway.

      "You're telling me," I mumbled to no one before pulling my backpack over my shoulders again. She had been suspended three times this year for violence. I was surprised she hadn't been expelled, though there were rumors that she was expelled from her old school before transferring here in her sophomore year.

      A moment later, the bell signaling first period echoed through the building, and I sighed as I dragged myself out of the stall. Connie was gone, and I followed suit, begrudgingly heading to Mr. Hannes' class.

      I was so engrossed in finding a solution to my lack of medication that I hadn't even remembered I would be seeing Levi during first period. He was already sitting down by the time I walked in, and I hated the way his eyes appeared to light up when they landed on me.

      I did my best to ignore him as I made my way to the end of the room and sat down. I hated the way I itched to see what his expression had become, but I managed to keep my curiosity at bay.

      Realizing that it wasn't plausible for us to become close had created a shell around me, one I intended to protect myself with. I was done pretending to be someone I wasn't when it only led to disappointment.

      Mr. Hannes' lesson as the class quickly became a measly blur in the background. Constant overthinking crushed any hope of making it through the morning without my medication. I was no longer sure if it was placebo or my mind at its raw state, as it had been so long since I had experienced what being unmedicated felt like.

      It wasn't like the mornings where it was more difficult to focus than usual, even with the Concerta. This was relentless, unrestrained emotion, a lack of awareness and too much awareness all at once. A without the mood stabilizers and antipsychotics, it was as if my brain was finally let loose, punishing me with every form of torment it could find. The visual reminded me of my tattoo, which suddenly became heavy on the back of my shoulder. I could feel my own skin wrapped around my bones. Everything felt ten times heavier.

      I felt angry and hopeless that this was the natural state of my mind I had to alter on a daily basis in order to properly function. What was the point of living this way? What was the purpose of having a brain so malfunctioning?

      There was an alternative solution to this problem—I could go to the nurse or Counselor Finger and have one of them call my mom, asking her to bring my medication to school. That, or I simply leave and go home to take it.

      But both of those options meant confronting my parents. After this morning, shame, betrayal, and resentment still filled my heart. I couldn't find the will nor strength to face them yet.

      I sighed, dropping my head. I bought the joint for a reason—I just thought I would be able to out just a little bit longer. But the pain from everything I had confronted in the last twenty-four-hours was so palpable I was shocked there wasn't a gaping hole in my chest.

      Drums pounded in my ears. The tapping of my foot against the ground was deafening. The sound of Mr. Hannes' voice was a booming echo that beat against my skull.

      Levi's pursuit and my newly discovered feelings, my inability to connect with him, the argument from this morning, all of it overwhelmed me. My dad’s outburst was still a ghostly touch around my neck, and I could feel the stretched fabric from where his grip had been the tightest. Everything was quickly becoming too much.

      And all of it seemed to fall silent when I shot up in my seat.

      "Eren?" Mr. Hannes had paused his lesson to regard me, eyebrow raised in confusion. I ignored him as well as the many pairs of eyes that looked at me. I could feel one particular stare lingering on the back of my neck, and I couldn't help myself from turning my head just slightly to glance at him. I nearly crumbled when I noticed the knowing concern over his pinched expression.

      I threw my backpack over my shoulder and rushed between the rows of seats, heading toward the door. "Eren," Mr. Hannes called again, his voice a little more stern as his eyes followed me, but I kept walking until I left the classroom and met the empty hallway. My name was cut off for a final time as the door shut behind me, but I didn't glance back as I immediately strode toward the school exit.

      It was too early for any gym classes to be out, and they rarely ventured to the back of the school when they were. So, as shitty and disgustingly cliché as it was, I made a beeline for the most vacant location on the outskirts of the building.

      The back of the school was practically a wasteland that was rarely cared for, thin patches of grass and weeds dwindling to cracked asphalt until it met a metal-wired gate. On the other side of that gate was a long stretch of barren trees, and behind that was a road that housed several average-sized homes. They couldn’t see much of the school with the trees obscuring their view, even with many of the leaves missing.

      No one but students who felt like skipping, wanted to have sex on the property, or the occasional janitor who gave a shit came back here, and I was lucky to find none of the above as I turned the corner. Maybe running off this early in the day was the right call, after all.

      There was no reason for me to stay at school at all. I could have jumped the fence and headed into the trees to smoke there without even worrying about being caught. But the atmosphere surrounding the idea of smoking behind the school was nearly comforting, something strangely nostalgic yet thrilling.

      I grabbed the bagged joint and lighter from my back pocket, swung my backpack onto a patch of grass and slid down against the wall until my ass hit the firm ground. There were several crushed cigarette and blunt butts scattered around along with a few pieces of miscellaneous trash, really hitting the nail on the head as far as back-of-the-school actives went. The air was cold, nipping against the exposed skin of my arms and face, yet the crisp air was almost refreshing.

      Soon my lungs would be wishing for it again. I glanced down at the bag in my hand, only to frown when I noticed the joint's condition. "Damn," I muttered in disappointment. It had been squished when I sat down in class. I was relieved to see that no weed had escaped from it, but it'd be odd to hold between my fingers.

      I unzipped the bag and grabbed the paper cone, tucking the plastic back into my pocket. I eyed the joint and its sealed end before shrugging, figuring it worked the same as a blunt. I held the pale-orange butt to my lips, flicking the lighter a couple of times before it came to life. The bright orange flame contrasted the dreary grayness of my pitiful surroundings, and I carefully held it against the sealed end and watched it burn away. I inhaled as the weed inside the cone began to ignite, feeling the smoke inflate my lungs before I pulled the joint away.

      I scrunched up my face immediately, attempting to hold the smoke in as long as I could before I violently coughed it out. A large cloud shot through the air. "Oh, fuck," I croaked out as I hacked, pounding at my chest with my free hand.

      I had taken such a big hit that I became lightheaded upon my violent reaction, which was a gateway to the imminent high already approaching. While it was a gate opened much less gracefully than I had hoped, I still felt the sense of relief from finally seeing a form of escape just up ahead.

      Smoking wasn't necessarily appealing to me. It was fun at first, though I saw it as a means to an end. It was why I hadn't had a problem with quitting after my mom dramatically sobbed once she'd found out.

      I wasn't quite empathetic with her despair, but I didn't want to experience her utter resentment every time I even remotely stunk of the drug. I already dealt with enough of her drama as it was.

      I hadn't been smoking for long at the time, so it was easier to drop it. A few months prior I had seen Yelena's group passing a joint at the Recreational Center, and one of them, who was definitely high off his ass, randomly asked if I wanted to join. I still remember his goofy smile.

      "Sure, why not?"

      It was yet another impulsivity I had given into. I had no friends, I was incredibly depressed, and simply needed to pass the time. By the end of the smoking session, Yelena offered me a few wraps and a couple of grams to take home—for a price, of course. I had merely shrugged and agreed. And thus, she had found a new customer, even if temporary. I was almost positive I was one of her only customers over eighteen, though I doubted she cared. She sold drugs to high-schoolers, after all.

      But since I was regularly medicated, the interactions between the drugs sucked ass. It was another reason it was relatively easy to stop smoking—the headaches and frequent nausea weren't fun to deal with.

      Today, I just needed a temporary escape, and this had been the solution. I wasn't planning on making it a habit again, but every once in a while couldn't hurt.

      Once my final coughing fit dwindled and I calmed down enough, I felt safe to take another, smaller hit. It was finally starting to take effect, sped up by the onslaught I had given my body to kick it off with. A little while after the second hit, my bones gradually slackened, the corners of my vision started to haze, and my mind pleasantly began to blur. I sighed in relief, leaning my head back against the wall of the building and shutting my eyes as the initial buzz tickled my veins. I lifted my knees until they were level with my chest, draping my hands over them and letting the joint hang from my fingers.

      "Well, I will admit, I wasn't expecting that."

      I snapped my eyes open, lids already heavy from the high that begun to creep up on me. I jerked my head to see Levi with his arms crossed over his chest. "But I can't say I'm surprised," he added once we locked eyes.

      I raised my eyebrows and blinked slowly, as if in disbelief that he was standing there, before I scrunched them together in confusion. "What are you doing here?" I asked. There was no genuine malice in my tone, but I couldn’t prevent the hint of discomfort I felt as one of the main causes of my depressive episode had interrupted me.

      He regarded me with a once-over, and it looked as if he was about to reply with something snarky. But instead, his shoulders sagged, a sigh escaping his lips as he began to walk toward me. "Mr. Hannes told me to come find you. I felt like I was in elementary school again—‘go find the kid who hasn’t returned from the bathroom,’” he said, waving his hand through the air before stopping in front of me. He squatted to the floor across from where I sat, wrapping his arms around his knees.

      I didn't initially respond, glancing over him with a meek frown before taking another drag from the joint. "How'd you know I was back here?" I asked, blowing the smoke to my left so the wind would carry it away. I had enough remaining respect to not blow it in his face, but after a few more hits I wasn't quite sure if that'd still be the case.

      "Just a lucky guess. I tried the bathroom first. After that I figured it was either here, or you left school," he said casually, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced down at the ground between us.

      I hummed, the relaxation from the high muddling the ability to think too deeply about his presence. I figured that was a good thing as I took another hit and soaked in his oversized sweater, the color a deep, complimentary brown against his pale skin. He often only wore cool, darker shades, so the contrast was oddly pleasant.

      And while I wouldn't have wanted to dwell on it otherwise, the high was allowing images of him to flood in that were becoming harder and harder to filter.

      "So, you smoke?" he assumed, resting his chin on his hands as he looked up at me.

      "No," I said plainly, but the contradictory answer didn't seem to confuse him. He simply glanced at the joint before shrugging, then stuck his hand out in silent request.

      I raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, but slightly leaned forward and handed it to him from where I sat. "You smoke?" I repeated his question back to him.

      He straightened his head out, examining the cone once before bringing the end to his lips. "No," he simply replied, before taking a small drag from it and pulling it from his mouth.

      Some of the smoke that hadn't made it to his lungs flowed delicately from his slightly parted lips, before he blew a small cloud to the left. He faintly coughed, but otherwise wasn't fazed, handing the joint back to me.

      Why is everything you do so perfect?

      I shook my head to myself, something he seemed to take notice of but didn’t comment on, taking another hit before letting it hang from my hand again. We sat in silence as he slid his hands over his sweater-clad arms. I watched him lean over and eye the asphalt beneath him, frowning slightly in faint disgust before he cautiously sat down all the way.

      He caught my eye, his thin, dark brows drawing together as they searched my expression. "So, do you want to talk about what's wrong?" I almost winced at the piercing words, spoken with such delicacy yet little remorse. He noticed my reaction, pursing his lips.

      "Why does it matter to you?" I asked, regarding him with heavy, lidded eyes.

      He pressed his eyebrows together a little further at the question, seemingly considering his answer, before regarding me. "I like to think we're becoming friends," he said calmly.

      My heart sank. For some reason, those seven utterly simple words affected me more than any other response I could think of. They echoed in my head, disturbing the high I clung to until they were all I could think about.

      "You don't want to be friends with me," I muttered bitterly. Suddenly, the joint in my hand felt heavy. I didn't want to hold it anymore. It was a little more than half-way gone, nearly finished, so I dropped it to the floor. Levi eyed its pathetic state on the ground with an indecipherable stare, but then looked up at me. I couldn't meet his eyes.

      "Why not? Is it because you're too brooding for me? A little more emo than I'm capable of handling?" The teasing tone behind his voice was dreadfully painful.

      I scoffed, looking up at him with a look of disbelief. I felt mocked by his slight smirk. "I'm serious," I claimed, and he reeled himself in as he sensed my bothered demeanor.

      "So far you haven't given me a reason to believe I shouldn't be friends with you," he claimed. Along with his tone, his eyes had softened, gentle sterling piercing me with such a terrifying sense of understanding that I wanted to hide from it.

      "That's because–"

      "I don't know the half of it?" he finished, stealing the exact words that were milliseconds from leaving my mouth. I eyed him strangely, and he knew he had hit the nail on the head. "I won't ever know either halves if you don't allow me to," he added.

      I tightened my jaw, bitterness and fear crushing any sense of hope that tried to make itself known. The high mixed it into a pot of pitiful sorrow, one I was too weak to fight against.

      The last two people I had allowed to know both halves decided they would have rather known neither.

      “So, what's wrong?" he asked again. I sighed, leaning my head back and staring off into the distance with heavy eyes. I could feel him watching me as I contemplated what to say, where to go from here. He was analyzing me, studying me like he always was.

      I wasn't sure if I'd truly be able to escape him. Not because he wouldn't leave me alone, but because I might not be able to stay away, and the thought was nearly terrifying.

      Maybe the partial truth would be the final ace that pushed him away for good.

      "I didn't take my meds today," I began. I clenched my eyes shut, only momentarily, as the admission stung my skin. I always hated talking about my medication, no matter who it was with.

      When I opened them, I risked dropping them to catch his expression. It hadn't changed, he merely tilted his head. "I knew you had to be medicated for something, I just couldn't exactly pinpoint what," he said much too casually.

      "Borderline Personality Disorder and Intermittent Explosive Disorder. I also have ADHD, but who doesn't at this point," I muttered, my voice dry and defeated. I noticed a slight delay to it, but it wasn't enough to be embarrassed about.

      He raised his eyebrows, but the expression that overcame him didn't seem to be one of shock. Not a single negative emotion could be seen swimming behind his eyes, and truthfully, I wasn't sure if that comforted me or angered me more. "Oh," was all he said, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater.

      He was allowing the information to sink in. I half expected him to raise an arm between us, deciding that would be the stopping point that prevented us from getting any closer. It wouldn't have been the first time, after all.

      But his next words grounded me into a state of shock. "I'm hyper-sexual," he said casually.

      I blinked at him as I lowered my head. "Really?" I mumbled curiously.

      He nodded. "Yeah. I hide it pretty well. I mean, it's obviously nothing compared to what you have to deal with, so I'm not saying I get it, but if we're sharing how fucked up our heads are, then I might as well throw in a coin," he said, and I found myself scoffing.

      The truth was, if I had decided that I was going to read his mind early on, I would have known that already. But I had stuck to the challenge I had given myself, and he had come forward and shared it with me anyway. He chose to be vulnerable the same way I had, even with something he probably didn't share with many others—if anyone at all. Something told me not a lot of people knew that about him. Something told me that in the past, he had been judged for it.

      I hated the way it made me feel so connected to him, even if his struggle was so different from my own.

      I was scared of that feeling, so I smothered it. The high prevented me from putting any real thought behind what came out of my mouth, which gave dangerous territory to my already impulsive nature.

      "Is that why you immediately brought up being eighteen next month when you found out my age?" I asked.

      He pinched his eyebrows together as he sat up straighter. "And are your issues the reason you're being such an asshole today? I didn't share that with you so you could immediately throw it back in my face," he snapped.

      I frowned as I felt his glare pierce me like a fiery arrow. I didn't want him to look at me that way, it felt wrong despite how often I was used to the look from others, but maybe it was for the best that he did.

      I tried to ignore the way my heart ached at the sight of it.

      "I am an asshole. I told you, you don't want to be friends with me," I reiterated, and he seemed to draw the line there as he squinted his eyes. He unfurled his arms from around his knees and leaned back, his palms placed flat upon the ground.

      "Why are you pushing me away?" he asked, and I hated how perceptive he was all of the time. How easily he was able to read me, to chip away at my shell. Despite the high still coursing through me, I shot up to my feet, throwing my backpack over my shoulder. I turned, ready to leave, but he immediately followed me to a stand, his fists clenched by his sides.

      "I'm not someone you need in your life. You should hear the way people are talking about you. I guarantee with the way you look, you won't have any problems making other friends. But the second you decide to get close to me, you can say goodbye to any chance you have of a social life," I bit back.

      He stepped forward until he stood in front of me, craning his neck to look dead into my eyes. We were so close—too close, with merely inches of space between us.

      "And do you think I give a shit about that? You think having it rough means you shouldn’t let anyone in? Everyone has it rough, one way or another. But that isn’t worth spending life alone—not when you have someone right in front of you who's willing to share the load." Every word he shot dug straight through me, impaling my heart. Between the high and my already unstable emotions, I felt as if I was going to tear apart at the seams.

      I brought my hands to my hair, letting out a harsh, frustrated sound. He took a step closer, and I shot my hands to my sides as I glared down at him. "Why the hell do you care so much?" My voice couldn't even be considered angry anymore. It sounded desperate, pathetically so.

      "Why don't you care enough? Why can't you see that I'm just trying to be there for you?" he asked.

      I huffed. "I don't need anybody to be there for me," I said much too quickly, despite how my heart only beat faster as he got closer, despite how much the thought of someone being there made my chest ache with longing I didn't want to face.

      We were merely breaths apart; I could feel his brushing against my skin despite our height difference, the warmth of it contrasting the frigid air.

      "I don't think that's true," he whispered, and with those soft words, I snapped. Before I could think any of my actions through, I grabbed him by his sweater and spun us around. I caught his eyes widening even through my own dizziness, and I pushed him against the wall with merely centimeters between us.

      "I'm exactly the person your uncle would tell you to stay away from. I bet you he already has," I breathed. My voice was gruff as I stared down at him.

      He panted, recovering from the sudden change in our position with his hands planted against the wall. He looked up at me, gaze alight with determination. "And do you think I'm going to listen to him? He doesn't have any control over the choices I make." He ran his tongue over his bottom lip after his words, and I glanced down at the action with lidded eyes.

      Warmth stirred in my gut as I held his sweater tighter, gritting my teeth. "I've been called a freak all my life. When I'm off my meds, I'm fucking crazy." I hardly had time to think about what I was saying or doing. But for some reason, all I knew for certain was I wanted to keep staring into his eyes.

      "Maybe that's why you excite me so much," he whispered. I pinched my expression, grinding my teeth together violently.

      "Why? Why do you care about me? I'll do nothing good for you," I spat. Every word I threw at him carried the intention of pushing him away, of encouraging him to give up on me. But it was as if they were only making him fight harder. It hurt, so badly, because no one had ever fought that much before.

      He was momentarily silent, staring up at me with eyes that seemed to carry their own moons. I could get lost in them, swimming in an endless sea of stars with no escape.

      "You've done plenty good for me. You've already begun to save me from my loneliness," he said, barely caressing the air with his words. I parted my lips, and he looked at them, my dazed eyes drinking in his expression. I was so close to him now that strands of my hair brushed against his cheeks with the wind, and I could feel my grip on his sweater slowly slipping.

      "You've chosen the wrong person to be saved by. You don't know how fucked up I am," I whispered back, my voice hoarse and desperate.

      "I'm enraptured by your own pain, Eren. What does that make me?" he asked, sounding just as brokenly conflicted.

      His breath tickled my skin as he spoke, and I found myself leaning down even further. "Insane," I replied, licking over my lips. The high clouded any chance of coherent thought guiding my actions. I was driven by both a painful sense of want and nearly crippling fear.

      His hands slowly parted from the wall as his eyes fell to my chest. I watched with a heavy heart as he gently placed them on the front of my shirt, just barely curling his fingers into the stretched fabric. He let out a shaky breath with the movement, looking back into my eyes.

      "I would gladly succumb to insanity for you," he rasped, and with those words, I crumbled. The shell of caution I had desperately gripped to shattered against his hands on my chest, and from within, passion surged forward. I didn't know what I was doing, all I could feel was the warmth of his lips as I crushed them together. All that mattered was the way he gripped my shirt even harder, desperately kissing me back as a heavy breath escaped his nose.

      When I ripped myself away from him, we clung to each other, panting against one another's lips.

      "You're making a mistake," I growled as a final warning.

      "Good," he said, pulling me back down so our lips could mold once more.

      At that very moment, I didn't care if it was selfish. I didn't care if this would one day fall apart and slip through my fingers, my life along with it.

      It would break me. Deep down, I knew that. And I would hurt him. There was no version of this that existed where I wouldn't.

      But the feeling of his fingers clutching my shirt, and the instinct to let go of his sweater and lift my hands to cup his face made it make sense.

      It made it right.

      He broke apart from me with a gasp, his eyes fluttered shut as he sucked in a harsh, chilled breath.

      "I don't even know what I'm doing," I admitted, removing my hands from his face and bracing one above his head. I was so high, my emotions and awareness a mixed pot of confusion, exhilaration, and fear.

      "You don't have to. Just... let me in," he breathed, his voice so utterly promising it threatened to destroy me where I stood.

      "I... I can't." I clenched my eyes shut, but his hand sliding from my chest to my face made me crack them open to see the longing in his expression.

      "What are you so afraid of?" he whispered, stroking my cheekbone. I nearly shivered at the touch. It was so delicate, so unlike anything I was used to. I couldn't remember the last time I had ever been caressed like that.

      "Myself," I muttered honestly. "Everything." I bowed my head. I hadn't felt this much emotion in so long. It was so new, so raw. Painful yet terrifyingly inviting. It wasn't the anger and bitterness I was used to, it wasn't resentment and regret I had grown terribly comfortable with.

      Because I was off my medication, I knew treading new emotional territory ran the risk of me splitting again. So, I inhaled a deep, shaky breath, attempting to ground myself and allowing the high to soothe me.

      "I know change is scary... you've been hurt, that much is obvious. But you don't have to figure it all out at once. Just... trust me," Levi said. I looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. His usual impassive veil or sarcastic wit had been replaced by a window into his heart. "For a butterfly does not know if it will survive its cocoon, yet it weaves, as it knows its life shall not flourish without the chance that it may," he said quietly.

      My heart soared, and I suddenly felt as if I was looking straight into him. "You wrote that?" I whispered, and he just barely nodded his head, running his finger along my jaw.

      I swallowed. One single push into his mind, and I could climb through it. I could find out everything—exactly how he felt in this very moment, how truthful his words really were. If they were clouded by fear, mistrust, malice, or shame. All of it could be mine to unsheathe.

      I tore my eyes away from his.

      "I..." I breathed.

      "Yes?" he replied. I clenched my eyes shut, curling my hand into a fist against the wall before sighing.

      "I'm... I'm high as shit right now. I need some time to just... think. Fuck." I sighed, finally pushing myself off the wall and forcing some distance between us. It wasn't much, but it was enough so the air between us grew frigid once more.
He searched my expression, remaining momentarily silent as he sucked in a breath.

      "Want to go to the park?" he asked.

      I turned to him, my eyes growing slightly wide. "You want to ditch?" I asked.

      He shrugged. "Beats staying here. Surprised?"

      My shoulders slightly relaxed. "Honestly, yeah. You striked me as the type to take school seriously," I admitted. That wasn't the only reason I was shocked, however. I hadn't expected him to want to spend more time with me right after what I'd just done.

      He slightly smirked, tilting his head. I admired the way it accentuated his jaw. "It's 'struck,' not 'striked,' but you get a pass because you're high. And, I can be the rebellious type when I want to be. I left my backpack in Mr. Hannes' class; I can go back and tell him I couldn't find you anywhere. First period should be over soon; I'll meet you out front?" he said.

      He really wasn't going to back down, I could see that much for certain. He had reeled me in on a leash, and I had fallen right into his trap.

      "Okay," I found myself saying. My eyes were heavy, I could feel the flush beneath my skin and the tingle of the high in my veins. Then, all of a sudden, the fear, confusion, and bitterness I felt seemed less dire than they had been before. The urge to spend more time with him began to override any other emotion that advised me to stay away.

      I would be the cause of my own demise.

      But as his expression slightly softened, as the edges of his lips barely curled upward before he turned around and began to head back to class, I realized that was always going to be the case.

      I just wasn't sure how.

      And if he was the reason, then,

      Maybe it would be worth it.

Chapter Text

Before we start, I wanted to show a couple pictures. First one is a sketch I made of Levi and Eren in this story, depicting their height difference.

then there’s this gem

okay that’s all, enjoy the chapter!

Yeah, About That

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      The high lasted a lot longer than I thought it was going to. I hadn't realized how much I'd smoked—or rather, I had forgotten how easily I was affected by it as it had been so long—until I was nearing Sina Park, Levi by my side, with my vision still hazy and my bones still heavy.

      Levi's sudden and surprising snort pulled me out of whatever trance I had been in. "You look like you don't know whether you're going to shit your pants or fly away right now," he said.

      I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the comment—a lot harder and a lot sillier than I would have sober, but I couldn't find the care to be embarrassed by it. "Probably both," I joked through my laughter. Levi bit his lip on a small, pursed smile, one I tore my eyes away from before I could look too much into it.

      "You have a nice laugh. You don't laugh that often," he commented.

      "Heyyy, I laugh," I replied, though there wasn't much confidence in my defense. I hadn't realized I had started walking off the sidewalk until Levi grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward him.

      "I mean really laugh. Not your little cool-boy chuckle," Levi teased.

      I parted my lips beneath squinted eyes as I stared at him, offended. However, my smile even through my open mouth made it obvious that I hadn't taken it to heart. "That was a low blow," I said, playfully elbowing Levi's shoulder. He stumbled away with a small huff of laughter before joining my side again. "You know, now that you mention it, I haven't really seen you laugh, either. You just do that thing where you breathe through your nose," I commented smugly.

      He shrugged his shoulders instead of coming up with a defense. "I haven't really had that much to laugh about." The brutal honestly behind the statement normally would have plummeted by mood, but the truth was, I felt the same way, and a sudden desire to be his solution overcame me.

      "I bet I can change that," I said confidently.

      He turned toward me with a small smirk. "Yeah? What makes you so confident?" he teased.

      I looked in front of us as the park appeared just up ahead. "This mayy come as a surprise, but I used to be the funniest in my friend group back in the day," I said.

      He raised an eyebrow. "Your friend group? You mean the voices in your head?" he said dryly.

      I laughed again. "Holy shit. You're out for blood today, aren't you?" I said through a grin, and the genuine smile that stretched across his lips suddenly made me halt.

      His teeth were stunning. Pearly white with a perfect level of sharpness to his canines that delicately pressed against his peach bottom lip. It dropped as soon as it appeared once he realized I had stopped, and he stared up at me with a confused expression only a few steps ahead.

      "What? What's wrong?" he asked, and I blinked at him before I realized heat had begun to gather at my cheeks. And it wasn't the high, as much as I wished I could have blamed it. I was fucking blushing.

      "It's... nothing," I lied, and his eyebrows drew together as he frowned. I wanted to see that smile again, but I wouldn't dare tell him that.

      "You're such a weirdo," he said, but when he quickly looked away with the barest hint of pink across his cheeks, it was clear he knew exactly why I had stopped.

      "Heyy, you're the one who's into this weirdo," I said as we resumed our leisurely pace. The trees lining the large park grew closer, greenery gradually taking over our surroundings.

      But what he said next made me stop again. "Who said I was into you?"

      He had said it with such inert indifference, I was entirely inclined to believe he was being genuine. I swallowed, and for the first time in what felt like years, I was caught truly and utterly speechless. Was he serious?

      He paused, too, looking over his shoulder at me with such a convincingly raised eyebrow I practically cowered. "You—we—I mean, the signs? I didn't just imagine that we kissed, right?" Had that weed been laced with something?

      The deafening silence that settled could have choked me to death. We hadn't said a word about the kiss since we left school, and if I had been imagining every single thing between us—if I had really let my mom get into my head again, I was going to throw myself off the cliff of Sina Park.

      But then, he pursed his lips in such a desperate attempt at hiding a smirk, that every tense feeling in my bones evaporated into the air around me. It was as if strings had suddenly been holding me tight, then were sliced away in an instant. "Fuck, dude," I breathed as I threw a hand over my rapid heart.

      He finally broke, huffing a small laugh through his nose as his silver eyes narrowed in amusement. "You're so easy to mess with when you're high. Of course I'm into you, idiot. I couldn't have made it more obvious without throwing myself onto you," he said bluntly.

      I sighed. "Honestly, I didn't fully realize until we got back from your place after dinner with my parents," I admitted, choosing to hide the fact that it was my mom who had brought it to my attention.

      He shrugged his shoulders as we continued walking. "I wasn't sure if you were just playing along or actually oblivious. And to tell you the truth, I was going out on a limb, because as much as I've tried to dig into you, one thing I genuinely couldn't pinpoint was your sexuality. You're incredibly ambiguous."

      I raised an eyebrow as we made a beeline for the play structure further into the park. The more I considered his statement, the more I realized... "Honestly, it's not something I've really put much thought into." It was true—the first thing that had come to mind when my mom accused Levi and I of flirting was the fact that she thought I was flirting at all, not the fact that it suggested I was into men.

      And now that I thought about it, that meant my mom had automatically assumed so as well—the question of her son potentially not being straight hadn't even come up. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Was she just that accepting and open-minded, or had she thought so all along? For all I knew, she was still assuming I was a virgin.

      Levi nodded thoughtfully, following me as we climbed the stairs and settled into a blue fort much too small for our size. It was oddly cozy. It led to a slide just a couple of feet away, one I knew neither of us would want to risk getting stuck in.

      Actually, he might fit.

      "You didn't strike me as the type to be encapsulated by sexuality," Levi said as we set our backpacks down beside us.

      "I'll take that as a compliment," I smugly replied.

      He shrugged. "It is. Especially for guys that look like you," he ran his eyes over me as he spoke. We were both sitting with our knees lifted toward our chest. I had my arms slung over mine while his hands were tucked beneath his thighs.

      "Oh, yeah?" I said, raising an eyebrow. I could have pushed the comment further, but I chose to leave it alone. For now. "Well, you're not wrong. For the longest time I actually thought I was incapable of being attracted to anyone," I admitted.

      He tilted his head, lifting his arms to wrap them around his legs before he rested his cheek on his knees. "Are you attracted to me?"

      The question made me swallow, an audible bob in my thick, cotton-muddled throat. He stared deep into my eyes, and I tore my gaze away to trail it over his porcelain features, ones I had spent so long studying on my phone. They led to his thin limbs tucked against his body, covered in baggy clothing that drowned his small frame, one I could overpower so easily if I wanted to. I thought about how witty and quick he was, how determinedly he perused his goals, how confidently he portrayed himself.

      "Yes," I muttered without allowing myself to think twice on the answer. His expression didn't waver, but a glint appeared in his sterling eyes.

      I failed to keep myself from wondering if I would still be attracted to him if I read his mind, if I knew who he truly was, inside and out.

      "Are you a virgin, then?" he asked next, as if I hadn't just admitted he was hot. His tone was so casual and dry it was as if he was asking me how I felt about the weather. 

      "No," I replied, and he didn't seem to have an initial reaction. His expression was calm and poised, but his next question made me think he was more intrigued than he had let on.

      "Have you been with any guys?"

      "No. Only girls," I said, and he just barely squinted. If I hadn't been looking into his eyes, I wouldn't have noticed.

      "Interesting. But again, not very surprising," he said matter-of-factly.

      "Nothing is surprising to you, is it?" I teased.

      He smirked. "It'll be damn hard to find something that is," he said confidently.

      My heart sank a mere inch in my chest.

      If only you could know.

༄༄࿐

      "So... how long have you had those diagnoses for?" Levi and I had migrated to the cliff half an hour into our venture, settled onto the same spot we had chosen the first time I had taken him here, just on the other side of the sign that told us to keep away. We overlooked the river, the sound of rushing water several yards below dangerous company as we sat back on the rocky grass.

      I looked up at the gray sky as I thought it over. It was the kind of muddy overcast that still hurt your eyes to look at, because the sun was just behind it, clawing its way through.

      The high had begun to dissipate, but my brain still struggled to catch up to reality. "Uhh... let's see. I was seven for ADHD; that was the first diagnosis. They hadn't even hesitated with that one. Borderline and IED came almost back-to-back, since I was too fucked up for it to just be one or the other. I was twelve and thirteen for those. They had suspected them earlier on, but that was the youngest they could diagnose," I explained. For some reason, talking to him about my diagnoses didn't bother me as much as I would have expected it to. He had this odd, calming aura surrounding him that almost encouraged me to talk to him, even if he didn't verbally express it.

      "That's a hell of a lot to unload on a kid," he said.

      I huffed a dry, hollow laugh. "I barely even knew what was going on—I felt like a lab rat. They put me on medication right away, and it took a few tries to find the right ones. ADHD was the hardest to medicate, surprisingly. I kept having weird reactions or building an intolerance to them. But I've been on what I'm taking now for a few years, so I should be good." I found myself rambling without thinking.

      But he didn't seem to care. He listened—really listened, with his head tilted and his eyes glued to me. "My uncle told me your dad is a doctor. I was surprised he even mentioned him since he likes to pretend womens' husbands don't exist—but, what kind of doctor is he? Does he help you at all?"

      My eyes glazed over after the question, and I stared ahead at the rocky cliff-side across the river. Help me? I wanted to laugh, but all that escaped me was a hollow breath of air. Mistrust and betrayal filled my heart. Chaotic memories of my father's face as he screamed, grabbed me by my shirt, and threw me out of my room flashed through my mind as the world around me quickly became a blur.

      "Uh," I began, my eyebrows furrowing together as I struggled to find purchase.

      In my peripheral I could see Levi trying to lean forward and catch my expression, but I didn't react. "Are you okay?" he finally asked.

      "What?" I said, jerking my head to him as I returned to the present. It was like water had flooded from my ears.

      His expression pinched with concern. "You just seriously dissociated, didn't you?" he asked.

      I blinked at him. "My bad," I muttered in embarrassment.

      He softly shook his head. "You don't have to apologize for that; you haven't taken your medication," he said, and my eyes widened.

      I'd never been told those words before, and yet, hearing them made me realize they had been something I'd wanted to hear all my life.

      "You're looking at me like I just sprouted another pair of arms," he said with a raised eyebrow.

      I scoffed an amused breath, bringing my hand to my forehead in disbelief at myself. "Sorry," I said with exasperation, but he didn't reprimand me for apologizing again. I glanced at him to see that his expression had slightly softened. 

      "You've never been given a break, have you?" he softly assumed.

      I pursed my lips on a bitter smile. "Ding, ding, ding," I said dryly, and he tilted his head with scrutinizing, yet sympathetic eyes. Their color matched the sky, gray yet with an blanket of light that glowed within them.

      It looked like there was a lot more he wanted to say, but he remained silent. I was grateful for that.

      "Tell me about your poems." I changed the subject—and while it was mostly for my own benefit, I couldn't deny the satisfaction in seeing his expression light up slightly.

      "Aren't you just the charmer?" he teased, and I shrugged with a small smirk. "What do you want to know?" he added next.

      I nibbled on my bottom lip in thought. "What are they usually about?" I decided on, and he sat up a little straighter as he curled his arms around his shins.

      "Hmm... mostly emotions—how they can cripple us, tear us apart from the inside. On the other end of the spectrum, I like to talk about how entrancing they can be." I stared at him, intrigued as he stared at the cliff ahead, deep in thought.

      "Sometimes I write about the world, but I often find myself becoming overly cynical when I do. It's difficult to find light in a place so grotesque, but it's always possible. When I try, it's like gruesome nihilism and whimsical optimism are at war in my head," he explained.

      "I think the fact that whimsical optimism is even still fighting is a good sign," I commented.

      The corner of his lip slightly curled upward. "I suppose."

      "Do you write anything else other than poems?" I asked.

      He tilted his head and hummed. "Short stories whenever the inspiration strikes. I poked at a novel once or twice, but it’s never actually come to fruition. Short pieces of literature are my strong-suit. But maybe one day I'll write a full-fledged novel," he said, a glint in his eyes.

      I nodded. "That would be cool. I'm terrible at writing, English is definitely my worst subject—next to math, probably.” I scoffed.

      "I'm surprisingly good at math. Usually it's one or the other for people," he said.

      I raised an eyebrow. "So you got both and I got neither. Great," I drawled.

      He smirked. "It isn't my fault you got fucked at birth," he teased, and I nudged his shoulder with my fist.

      Maybe whatever sick force thought these cursed abilities were gifts decided I'd be too powerful if I were good at basic subjects. I wanted to roll my eyes at the idea.

      A super-powered mathematician didn't sound too bad, though.

      I ran my tongue over the roof of my mouth, cringing at how dry and icky it felt. Another downside to weed while coming down. A breeze curled past us, carrying with it the mist of the river below, and a shiver wracked up my spine. "Fuck, it's cold," I hissed.

      Levi quirked an eyebrow. "Why didn't you bring a jacket?" he asked. I sighed, momentarily shutting my eyes as I recalled exactly why I hadn't brought a jacket to school.

      "I forgot," I muttered, and Levi narrowed his eyes at me.

      Suddenly, my phone began buzzing in my back pocket. I stiffened, reaching behind me as I lifted my hips to retrieve it. Levi watched silently as I looked down at the contact, seeing the witch emoji, and dread quickly washed over me. "Fuck," I whispered, silencing my phone and letting the call continue in my hand, unanswered.

      "Who is that?" Levi asked.

      "My mom," I told him, bringing my hand to my forehead.

      Both of his eyebrows raised this time. "That can't be good."

      "No. She never calls me while I'm at school," I muttered, the worst coming to mind.

      He pursed his lips. "Well, you're not at school, are you?" he stated obviously.

      I groaned. "No shit."

      Seconds after the call had stopped, another one began. "Ugh," I groaned again. There was no way out of this. I'd been in this position before. Once she started, she never stopped calling. She never gave up. I brutally recalled one time where it had been ten minutes straight of back-to-back calls. That hadn't been a fun conversation.

      "You should just pick it up and get it over with—it'll be fine," Levi tried to reassure, though it fell on hollow ears.

      "I know," I lied. Nevertheless, I answered to save face, bringing the phone to my ear with a sigh. I couldn't even get a pleasant hello into the air before her voice carried through the device.

      "Eren, where are you?" I had the feeling I knew where she was based to how harsh and quiet her voice left her.

      And yet, despite that, "I'm... at school," I tried, daring a sideways glance at Levi, who smirked.

       "Do not lie to me," she bit back coldly, and any amusement that might have simmered was instantly crushed as I frowned. "I've been waiting in the nurse's office with your medication for the last ten minutes before they finally told me you aren't on school property. Where the hell are you?"

       I curled my eyebrows as my expression grew distant, the rest of her coarse voice failing to get through to me after one simple word. "Medication?" I muttered.

       My mom scoffed. "Yes? I know you didn't take them this morning and who knows what missing one day will do to you. Clearly I was too late if you've ditched before you could even see through lunch. Now, are you going to answer my question, or am I going to have to call the police?" I winced at how dramatic she was being, hoping that Levi hadn't heard her threat. I was already overwhelmed as it was—she had brought my medication to school without me even having to call her.

       That was the last thing I had been expecting after this morning.

      "It's fine, mom, I'm at the park," I told her.

      "The park?" She paused, an exhausted sigh escaping her. "Well, walk back to school, now. If I don't see you in the next ten minutes I'll drag you back myself," she finished, and I pursed my lips as I was abruptly hung up on.

      "That was brutal," Levi casually commented as I slung my hand holding my phone over my knees.

      My shoulders sagged as I let out a sigh, turning to him. "You heard all of that?" I assumed.

      He shrugged. "Most of it. Your mom seems pretty serious about school," he said with a raised eyebrow.

      I groaned, leaning my head back. "School is more important than breathing to her. If I were in the middle of suffocating but was going to be late for first period, she'd make sure I at least died on school property," I said with a roll of my eyes.

      Levi let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Well, we better get back, then. Don't want her to be the one to suffocate you," he said.

      I sighed, pocketing my phone again and untangling my knees to bring myself to a slow stand. "I wouldn't be surprised if she did, honestly," I muttered, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I caught the way Levi curiously eyed me. It was no doubt he wanted to question me on the dynamic with my parents since he hadn't received the greatest first few impressions, but it seemed like he was deciding to stay quiet. For now.

      I wasn't sure how I felt about him knowing much more.

      Once we both stood beside each other, Levi eyed me up and down. It was silent as his gaze lingered on the collar of my shirt. I swallowed as he took a step closer, lifting a hand to press against the stretched fabric and gently flatten it out against my collar bone.

      "You should take better care of your clothes," he said quietly, looking up into my eyes with a scrutinizing stare. I chose not to respond, and he nodded to the path on the other side of the fence to silently suggest our return.

༄༄࿐

      Our walk back to school was a little more tense than I would have liked, yet the idea of facing my mom was muddling my train of thought. I knew she was pissed—yet that hadn't bothered me in the past. There was another feeling digging through to my heart, causing my nerves to stand on end and my gut to clench unwillingly.

      I knew it had everything to do with this morning, with what I'd said to her.

      I sighed when we arrived at the gate. Levi crossed his arms over his chest as we lingered, his baggy sleeves tucking into his sweater.

      "I may or may not come out alive," I joked, and he rolled his eyes with a small smirk. Before I was given the chance to question what he was doing, he stood on his tippy-toes, pulled me down to meet him, and leaned forward. An unexpectedly sweet kiss was planted on my cheek, and my eyes slightly widened as I felt heat flood to the spot his lips pressed against.

      "That's for if you end up dead," he said before sliding his bottom lip between his teeth, looking up at me with shining silver eyes. As my heart pounded behind my ribcage, he turned around and began heading inside.

      I stared after him, finding myself speechless despite so much that itched to leave my tongue. When he disappeared from view, I shook my head, a breathy laugh of disbelief escaping me before I followed after him.

      We quickly parted ways, him heading to class—it should be over any minute now—and myself heading to the nurse's office. While I had mixed emotions about facing my mom, and the fact that she had brought my medications to school, I was relieved I wouldn't have to drag myself through the rest of the day without them. It would throw my schedule a bit off balance, but it was better than dealing with hell until tomorrow morning.

      As I treaded through the quiet hallway with my head to the floor, another pair of footsteps began to echo from the direction of the office just ahead. I lifted my eyes to see an ashe-blond-haired boy heading toward me. His hair color was similar to Jean's, but it was longer, and he had blue eyes. I took a few steps to the side to put more space between us as he passed, and he gave me a slight side-eye before facing ahead.

      Farlan, I think his name was, but I couldn't be sure. All I knew was he was another senior that I didn’t share any classes with.

      When I arrived at the office doors, I braced myself with a sigh before pushing through them and stepping inside. In the corner of the room was my mom, who immediately noticed me, standing with her arms crossed over her chest. Counselor Finger was sitting at her desk, smiling warmly when we locked eyes. The tension in the room was suffocating.

      'Oh, Eren. It must be hard having to deal with so much at once. Staying in school is for the best, though. I should know.'

      I wanted to roll my eyes at Counselor Finger’s thoughts—behind them was her recent encounter with Farlan. I turned to my mother, and the fierceness of her glare was palpable despite the way it bored into my chest. I didn't say a word, neither did she. She simply dug into her purse and pulled out a small plastic bag. Inside of it was the exact dosage of each of my medications, and... a hair tie. I almost cringed upon noticing the bag was the same size as the one my joint had been in earlier. I made a mental note to not step too close to her, in case the smell of weed was still lingering on my clothes.

      I noticed the way she eyed my stretched shirt collar with an unreadable look, her eyebrows pressed between her eyes, before she outstretched her hand with a tense arm. I grabbed the bag from her, muttering, "Thanks." Then, she simply turned and walked out of the office without a word. The door shutting behind her echoed through the quiet room.

      No passive aggressive comment, no 'we'll talk later,' she just... left.

      This morning had affected her more than I thought.

      I sighed, looking down at the floor with a frown before opening the bag. "Wait, Eren," Counselor Finger called from behind me. I turned to see her place a small plastic cup of water on the desk. "Drink some water with those," she said warmly, though the demand was evident beneath her kind tone.

      I grabbed the cup without responding and quietly swallowed the pills, placing the empty cup on the desk in front of her when I was finished. She smiled, retrieving it and tossing it into the trashcan beside her.

      Just as I had begun to turn around, she spoke up. "Eren, is there anything you'd like to talk about before you leave?" I faced her again, meeting her eyes and giving in to the urge to peer behind her words again.

      'There's so much in that head of his. I hope he has someone to open up to. God forbid the worst happens,'

      God forbid the worst happens? What did that even mean?

      "No thanks," I mumbled.

      She pursed her lips and nodded gently. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me," she finished with a small smile, and I nodded stiffly before turning and escaping the office.

      What, did she think I was going to become a school shooter or something?

      I sighed to myself. I may have been fucked up, but I wasn't that fucked up. Shaking my head and combing my hair back with a clawed hand, I took the hair tie from the bag and pulled it into a bun.

      Now that my medication would be kicking in soon, I begrudgingly headed to second period. My mood seemed to suddenly inflate again when I thought about Levi. I even found the corners of my lips slightly curling upward. I forced them down when I realized, rolling my eyes to myself. He really was doing something to me, wasn't he? I started off having the worst day I'd had in a while, and despite seeing my mom again after this morning, something I had previously dreaded, I found myself calmer than I would have normally been—calmer than I'd been in a long time.

      I wish we shared more classes together, but gym wasn't too far away from now. Granted, we were gone for over an hour and skipped nearly two periods, but there was no way I would have been able to stand staying in this building in the mindset I was in this morning.

      Just as Mrs. Azu's history class came into view, the bell sounded throughout the school. I halted, realizing second period had just ended, which meant it was now lunch. I almost laughed to myself—of course I didn't make it in time. I turned on my heel as I pushed my hands into my pockets, heading in the direction of the lunch room just as students began flooding into the hallway.

      I looked to my right, then did a double-take as I realized Nifa was walking beside me. She was already looking at me, and quickly looked away with a flushed smile as she tucked her auburn hair behind her ear. My expression slightly pinched as I looked ahead, realizing that, for once, a sense of discomfort had overcome me upon her attention.

      I remembered her thoughts from last week. The Winter Dance was in February, right after Christmas break. If she really was planning on asking me after all these years, I realized that I would have to turn her down.

      I wasn't sure if that'd be the case if Levi hadn't shown up. Before him, I just said yes to girls at the far and in between chance that they asked me out, even when it didn't lead anywhere—even when it came with no attraction on my end.

      But now, I had a reason to keep myself available.

༄༄࿐

      Though my anticipation was a welcoming distraction for the rest of my classes, with my medication quickly stabilizing my mood, I was able to reach gym period with only the usual lack of focus my Concerta couldn't nip at the bud. But I was exhausted. A headache nagged at my skull that started a little while after lunch, and there was a weird compression in my chest that forced me to take deeper breaths more frequently. It reminded me of why I had quit smoking weed in the first place.

      When I stepped outside to make my way to the locker room, I realized it had dropped several degrees since I'd last been outside. I shivered, shrugging my shoulders in as I increased my pace. When I reached the locker room, I glanced toward the corner to find Levi in his usual spot in front of his locker. He was in the middle of changing into his gym clothes.

      I watched him unfold the deep red T-shirt, quickly gluing my eyes to his exposed, pale skin. Just like his legs and arms, his torso was toned, but not overwhelmingly so. He had a lean body, with muscle where it counted. His waist was thin, but his hips didn't jut out very much where the low hem of his gym shorts began. His hip bone was just slightly protruding. He was so... small.

      A rush of possession suddenly overcame me upon the idea that he was surrounded by other half-naked seventeen and eighteen-year-olds much larger than him, despite the fact that that was nothing I could change. Rationally, I knew this was just the locker room, yet I couldn’t help but wish it was only the two of us.

      I swallowed before looking back up at his face, only to find he was looking at me. He raised a smug eyebrow as the corner of his lips slightly lifted.

      I narrowed my eyes at him before heading to my own locker and swiftly beginning to change. I couldn't see him from where I stood—he was just on the other side of the tall row of lockers. I wouldn't know if he took his boxers off or not unless I peeked to see for myself next time, and that would have been way too obvious.

      A few feet to my right was Connie, who wasn't in the middle of his usual foolish banter with Jean. No, instead, they were apart, Connie carrying a slightly stern look on his face as Jean began taking off his shirt. However, when I just happened to peer at Jean's tan skin, I noticed multiple purplish-green bruises scattered across his ribcage. As soon as I laid eyes on them, however, he quickly tugged his gym shirt over his body.

      "What the fuck are you looking at?" Jean snapped, and I lifted my head with a raised eyebrow to see him glaring at me. Connie had removed his head from his locker and looked between us.

      "You tell me, dude," I muttered under my breath.

      "The fuck did you say?" he spat, slamming his locker door shut. I rolled my eyes, pushing my stretched T-shirt and jeans into my locker and remaining silent.

      I tried to ignore him, not really in the mood for arguing with him as I usually did—something about his tone was different. While he usually made snide comments that were fueled by his inflated pride, there had been a sense of rage behind his words in the last couple of days that I wasn't keen on tampering with, which said a lot.

      However, my silence didn't seem to deescalate the situation. He stomped his way over to where I stood, the rest of the locker room dwindling to silence as he approached me. I sighed, but that sigh turned into a startled grunt as he shoved me by my shoulder.

      I slowly turned to him, shocked that he'd lay his hands on me, my gaze growing wide and fiery.

      He mirrored it tenfold, leaning in close as he pushed his arm against my chest and shoved my back against my locker. "Get. Off of me," I demanded through clenched teeth, feeling my hands curl into fists by my sides. I could destroy him if I wanted to, without any effort. His hazel eyes bored into mine—we were about the same height—and before I allowed him a chance to break contact, I dug into his mind.

      His thoughts were pure chaos. I could hardly pick out one from another, and that was incredibly rare. Someone had to be utterly distraught for that to be the case. But I immediately read feelings of rage and fear upon my noticing of his bruises.

      As well as images of his dad being the cause of them.

      "Keep your fucking eyes where they belong, Jaeger," he spat, pushing me one more time for good measure before backing off and stalking back to his locker.

      Levi appeared by my side a moment later as broken chatter began to fill the room. "Are you okay?" he asked, his thin eyebrows pinched with concern. He must have come around the corner to watch the altercation when he heard it.

      "I'm fine," I muttered through a frown, glaring at Jean as he dragged himself out of the locker room.

      "Does he normally do that?" Levi asked, and I looked down at him to see his perturbed gaze following Jean as well.

      "No, that was a first. It was a first with Connie the other day, too." I sighed, forcing myself to calm down. If I had still been off my meds, who knows what I would have done after he had pushed me.

      Connie turned to us after he shut his locker. "He's been like that for days. You can't even have a normal conversation with the guy without him going fucking crazy on you," he spat through a deep frown. My eyebrows drew together. There was so much I could have said, but I knew more than I should have been allowed to.

      "So you guys aren't friends anymore?" I decided to ask.

      Connie scoffed. "I tried. No one can stand even being around him anymore. He pushed all his friends away," he replied bitterly before turning around and leaving the locker room.

      "That's weird... did you even do anything to provoke him?" Levi asked, returning his eyes to me.

      I shook my head. "I just looked at him," I said, but Levi raised a doubtful eyebrow.

      I sighed. "Let's not talk about it right now; if you couldn't tell, I'm not really the gossip-type," I told him.

      His expression relaxed with a soft nod of his head. He looked as if he appreciated what I'd said. "That's a good thing. Come on, let's go," he nodded toward the door, and I shut my locker before following him out with a few other students. What I'd just discovered in Jean's head was the only thing on my mind as we headed to the gymnasium.

༄༄࿐

      During our warmups instructed by Coach Shadis before our basketball game, Levi did his sit-ups next to me again. It felt nice having company. I couldn't remember the last time I felt someone's presence become so constant while performing something so mundane. It was... comforting.

      "Do I give school shooter vibes?" I blurted curiously as I laid down on my mat, thinking about Counselor Finger’s earlier thoughts. Levi slouched where he sat after lifting his body, looking back at me over his shoulder with thoughtful eyes.

      "Hmm... no, I wouldn't say so. You have the loner look, but there's definitely some softness buried in that guarded little heart of yours. I know I'm not the only one that sees it," he answered.

      "Eh." I brushed it off with a shrug, and he rolled his eyes.

      "I'll tell you who does, though," Levi muttered, and I glanced at him to see him subtly nod across the room. I followed his gaze to see Jean slouched on his mat, a dark vacancy cast over his expression.

      "Kirstein, get back to your sit-ups," Coach Shadis demanded as he passed him, completely apathetic to Jean's dreadful mood. Jean seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in to vigorously continue forcing himself up and down. 

      "Jean? Really? I mean, he's clearly fucked up, but I don't know if I'd go that far," I replied, tearing my eyes away from him before he could catch me staring again. I couldn't help but think about what I'd seen—what I'd felt when I'd infiltrated his head. Could what he was going through really drive him to that point if unmonitored?

      "It's a shitty thing to think, I know. Trust me, that's the last label I want to give a person, but... I don't know. I've always had good intuition. He needs a friend, that's for sure," he finished, his tone definitely insinuating something.

      I scoffed. "Good luck with that. I can't imagine anyone putting up with the way he acts," I muttered. Even though I felt bad for the way Jean was being treated by his dad, I couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that sparked in my gut upon the idea of Levi trying to befriend him. I hadn't seen Levi be as persistent as he was with me with anyone else in school since he'd arrived, and the idea of him dividing that attention with someone else was... threatening. Plus, I've read enough of Jean's thoughts throughout the years to know he wasn't completely straight.

      As if Levi could sense exactly what I was feeling, as if my thoughts had seeped into my tone word for word, he turned to look back at me with a raised eyebrow. "I wasn't taking about myself, by the way. I was talking about you," he said.

      I jerked my head back against the mat in shock. "Me? I think we'd end up killing each other before we got past how are you," I said with a roll of my eyes.

      Levi scoffed. "Come on. You guys are a lot more similar than you think. I've only been going here for a little over a week and I can tell that much."

      Coach Shadis began to near us and we quickly resumed our sit-ups. When he was far enough away and his attention fell on other students, I sighed after pulling myself up. "Not happening. I don't make friends, remember? Not everyone is as persistent as you."

      He sighed, trailing his eyes over me once before he laid back down on the mat. "If you say so," he nonchalantly replied, and I couldn't help but feel a discomforting sense of worry that I'd disappointed him. Before I could think to say anything else, however, Coach Shadis blew his whistle.

༄༄࿐

      When I never received a text from my mom telling me she would be picking me up from school, I knew I was going to be walking home today. I sighed, glancing at my phone lock screen with zero notifications before pocketing it dejectedly. Goosebumps raised on my skin upon the chilled air that swept past.

      "Do you walk home normally?" Levi asked, stopping by my side just outside of the gate.

      I shrugged my shoulders as I glanced at him. "It depends. Pretty sure I'm walking home today, though," I said before pursing my lips.

      Levi scoffed. "You're wearing a T-shirt and my balls are freezing off. My uncle is picking me up, he'll just give you a ride home," he said matter-of-factly.

      "It's okay, I don't mind walking—" I tried, the idea of being in a car with just Levi and his uncle setting me on edge, but Levi lifted his cold index finger to my lips. The contact almost made me shiver.

      "I'm not taking no for an answer," he said, slowly pulling his hand away, and I blinked down at him before huffing a small laugh.

      Then, I realized something. "Wait, doesn't your uncle drive a Ford GT?" It was a sports car that only had two front seats. Levi looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "That isn't his only car. You think we moved here in that thing? He has a Tucson—it was in the garage when you and your parents came over for dinner. He had me drive the Tucson while he drove the Ford from Mitras. The Ford is in the shop until Thursday so I know he has the Tucson today," he explained.

      "Oh. That makes sense," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.

      Levi poked my side and I squirmed away. "Don't be so awkward. Look, he's here." He gestured to the curb in front of the school parents fought to squeeze their way into, and a deep sapphire blue Tucson was waiting with its engine rumbling.

      I looked through the windshield to see that Kenny was already glaring right at me. I fought a chill that threatened to crawl up my spine, swallowing before begrudgingly following Levi to the SUV.

      He opened the backseat and crawled inside with his backpack. "Eren needs a ride home," he stated simply. There was no hint of a question wondering if it was okay, no allowance for denial. It was straight to the point.

      "Oi—" Kenny began with a tone of rejection, but Levi cut him off.

      "He doesn't have a jacket. We live in the same neighborhood so you literally have no excuse," Levi bit back. I was quickly beginning to see the kind of dynamic Levi and his uncle had.

      A ragged sigh was all I heard from the man from where I awkwardly stood beside the door, and Levi quickly waved me inside. "Get in before he has an aneurism," he said. I bit back a smirk, knowing that if Kenny saw me laughing it'd only make it worse, and ducked inside. I slid onto the seat, swinging my backpack by my feet. I expected Levi to shuffle to the other side of the car, leaving a gap between us, but he remained in the middle. I wasn't sure if he was doing it on purpose or if he wasn't aware of proper car etiquette. Something told me it was the former.

      I felt the warmth of his proximity seep into my side, and tried to ignore the way he had to lift his hips to allow me to buckle my seatbelt. I kept my hands glued to my lap after buckling myself in, glancing at the rear view mirror briefly and regretting it the second I caught Kenny's icy glower boring directly into my eyes.

      That man had put on a charming facade at dinner for my mom, but I didn't even have to read his mind to know my presence in his car was not welcome.

      Despite Levi claiming that his uncle was paranoid when I had asked if he was overprotective, it was definitely safe to assume both were the case. I was frankly surprised he didn't try to play on my good side since he wanted to get to my mom, but I suppose it was comforting to know Levi meant more to him.

      "What's your address, kid," Kenny grumbled through a frown, and I swallowed before telling him with as few words as I could.

      The start of the drive was spent in tense silence, Kenny only speaking up when he turned at the first intersection. "How was school?" he asked, and I knew by his slightly less biting tone that the question was directed toward Levi.

      "It was fine. Mrs. Kurtz said she wishes she could offer me more college level assignments," he replied.

      Kenny scoffed. "Teachers have been telling you that since the seventh grade, kid," he said. I nodded my head, impressed, and Levi rolled his eyes at me with a small smirk. "Just one more year and you'll have your work finally cut out for you," Kenny added.

      "You want to go to college?" I asked, turning my head to Levi.

      He nodded, dividing his full attention to me. "Yeah, but I think I might take a gap year since we just moved here," he said thoughtfully.

      Despite knowing the news shouldn't have come off as shocking—Levi undoubtedly took school more seriously than I did—I couldn't help the sense of dread that bubbled in my chest. Even the thought of him taking a gap year didn't quell it. "That's cool," I mumbled as I turned my head away, desperately trying to keep my emotions from showing on my expression.

      "Yeah... I guess. Do you want to go to college?" Levi leaned forward slightly, trying to keep his eyes on my face. I glanced at him fleetingly to see his eyebrows drawn together.

      My knee began to bounce unwillingly. "Uh, I don't know yet," I lied, staring through the window and looking at anything but his scrutinizing expression that threatened to pick me apart.

      "Well, you better decide, applications are going to be due soon if you want to go next year," he said.

      "Yeah," I muttered, bowing my head to stare down at my lap and noticing that my fingers were anxiously fiddling with one another.

      I hated the fact that knowing he would be leaving for college filled me with the foreboding dread of abandonment. We hardly knew each other.

      But it reminded me of them.

      Surprisingly, Kenny spoke up next, snapping me out of my bitter train of thought. "Eh, college is overrated if you ask me." I looked up at him—first at the back of his coal-black hair, then through the rear-view mirror. He had his silver eyes glued to the road and carried a slightly pinched, yet composed expression.

      "You literally have a degree in finance," Levi said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest.

      Kenny chuckled. "Can't argue with that. But hey, I could have followed my dreams with my old band. Who knows, maybe by now I'd be some famous prick." He laughed after his words. I raised an eyebrow. A band? Now that I thought about it, Kenny seemed like the total band guy in college. Maybe a dead-head.

      "Do you play anything?" I decided to ask, my knee still bouncing.

      Kenny briefly glanced at me with narrowed eyes through the mirror before focusing on the road again. "I pick up the bass every now and then. Not as much as I'd like to," he said. He was calm, but there was a faint subdued tone to his words that hinted at a lost dream. He'd coated it with humor before, but something told me he was a little more regretful than he had let on.

      Suddenly, I felt a touch to my knee. The unconscious bouncing slowed to a stop as I looked down, seeing Levi's small hand curling over it. He squeezed it briefly, then pulled away once my leg had grown completely still. I looked at him, but he continued to stare forward, and I could feel Kenny's glare boring into my skull.

      "We're here," he practically growled, the car jerking to an abrupt stop, and I braced myself on the passenger seat in front of me.

      "Fucking dramatic much?" Levi spat after he slammed back into his seat, and Kenny ignored him.

      I looked outside, and sure enough, we had pulled up to my house. I swiftly unbuckled my belt and opened the door, desperate to escape Kenny's wrath. "Thank you for the ride," I said quickly, and Kenny mumbled something darkly incoherent that I chose not to try deciphering.

      "Wait," Levi called just as I had grabbed my backpack and put one foot onto the ground, and I turned to see him digging into his pocket before he held his fist out. I wasn't sure exactly what he was asking for, and I blinked at him awkwardly.

      He rolled his eyes. "Hold out your hand," he said as if it was obvious, and I stiffly jerked it out in front of him, feeling Kenny's eyes on us as the engine rumbled. Levi placed something on the flat of my palm and curled my fingers over it, the warmth of his hand seeping into mine before he pulled it away and let it fall to his lap. The cold air curling in from the open door quickly replaced his soft touch.

      "See you tomorrow," he said as our eyes locked, and I nodded dumbly before clumsily pulling myself out of the car.

      As I tried to stand, I banged my head on the roof. "Fuck," I cursed, hearing Levi snort, which had made it all worth it.

      I brought my hand to my head, rubbing it pitifully once I slung my backpack over my shoulder and balanced myself on two feet. I shut the car door with my other hand, which was closed around whatever Levi had given me. I waved at him meekly once it was shut, and I just barely caught his subtle wink before Kenny sped off with an aggressive rev of his engine.

      I looked down at my hand and unfurled my fist, finding a crumpled piece of paper in the middle of my palm. My heart skipped a beat as I straightened it out, finding a beautifully written ten-digit number in smooth black ink.

      A giddy smile split my cheeks even with the throbbing in my skull, and I looked up at Kenny's SUV in the distance.

      I pocketed the number with a dumb grin, one I tightly pursed once I turned to face my house. My mom’s car was in the driveway, which meant she was home. I sighed, shoving both hands into my pockets as I trudged my way to the front door. As much as I wanted to procrastinate facing her for as long as I could, I also wanted to escape the frigid cold. On top of that, Levi giving me his number was the boost of confidence I needed. Confrontation suddenly seemed less dire than before.

      I found the door unlocked as it usually was when I had to walk home, and I tentatively pushed it open while bracing myself for the inevitable.

      I heard the sound of dishes being washed in the kitchen, and I quietly shut the door behind me before slipping off my shoes and setting them on the shoe rack instead of tossing them aside like I usually did. The least I could do was try to somewhat make peace.

      I quietly walked through the hallway until I reached the entrance to the kitchen, peaking in to see my mom working vigorously at the sink on the other side of the island. Her movements were stiff and tense, and her hair was slightly tousled.

      She seemed completely engrossed in the task, as well as her mind, and I almost crept past the kitchen to head to my room.

      But then she glanced toward me at the corner of her eye, doing a quick double-take before turning off the water.

      "You're home early," she said callously, grabbing a towel to dry her hands with. There was an almost vacant expression cast over her as her eyes lingered on my chest.

      "Kenny gave me a ride," I said quietly, feeling the tension of the air wrap around my throat as I leaned against the wall.

      Faint surprise muddled with confusion cast over my mom’s face, bringing her eyebrows together. "Kenny?" she clarified, and I just barely nodded despite knowing she probably couldn't see it.

      She turned away, opening the cupboard under the sink and pulling out disinfectant spray. "Since when did you and Levi get close enough for that?" she added with suspicion, setting it on the counter rigidly.

      I shrugged my shoulders in. "We've been getting along a lot better," I muttered, wishing I could read her thoughts at this very moment—wondering if she was thinking 'I told you so.'

      The elephant in the room was utterly palpable, and neither of us seemed capable enough to confront it.

      She sighed, carrying with it what sounded like disappointment, lingering her stare on the spray.

      "You weren't at the park today alone, were you?" she guessed, and irritation washed over me as I pushed myself off the wall, crossing my arms over my chest with a frown.

      "Why does it even matter?" I asked pointedly. She was silent for a moment, shaking her head. I could see her contemplative expression from where I stood. 

     "I'm just saying, do you really think you're choosing your new friends wisely?" The calmness of her voice did nothing to quell the judgement reeking from her tone.

      I scoffed, feeling a sense of hurt and defense over Levi upon what she was insinuating. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with an offended tone. I tried reading her expression from the side of her face I could see, but she kept herself oddly composed.

      Then, she said the last thing I needed to hear after today. "Mikasa and Armin would have never let you ditch like that."

      My mouth fell open, dread overcoming me as I took a rigid step forward. Shock had drawn me utterly silent, until a hollow laugh of disbelief escaped me. "Are you—are you kidding me right now? Don't do that—don't compare Levi to them. You don’t even know him." My veins were buzzing, my mind suddenly overwhelmed by trauma. My breathing began to pick up.

      She scoffed, placing a hand on her hip as she turned to me, gluing her stern eyes to my chest. "He hasn't even been at school for two weeks, and you think you know him already?" she accused, her condescending voice slightly raised. She was basically calling me an idiot.

      I raised my own voice on instinct, one of my fists clenched by my side while my other hand tensed in the air in front of me. "And in less than two weeks, he's made me feel more accepted for who I am than I've felt in years, mom—and he doesn’t even know I have powers!" I shot back, and I hated the way my voice had grown unstable, cracking in my throat. My breath caught in my lungs, and I stepped back while bringing a hand to my face, tugging at my hair in an attempt to calm myself down.

      It was oddly quiet. So much for making amends. I took a deep, shaky breath, removing my hand from my forehead and curling it around the bottom half of my face. I looked up at my mom, and a solemn expression had overcome her as she looked off to the floor.

      "Why are we fighting again?" she rasped, dropping her hand from her hip as her eyebrows curled together.

      I sighed, letting my hand fall to my side. "I—" I paused. There was no point in dragging out the obvious, not anymore. "I don't know," I mumbled, the only sound struggling between us being the clock that ticked away beside the china cabinet.

      It was then that I noticed her eyes beginning to water. She huffed, quickly turning away to face the sink and bracing her hands on the edge of it. "I made ravioli if you're hungry. Your father is at the clinic—he'll be home in time for dinner, we're having pork chops," she said stiffly.

      I stood there, practically feeling the way she sucked herself back in to a state of preservation. I curled and uncurled my fists, feeling words suffer on my tongue. I felt like a fish, gaping against the air that failed to relieve me.

      I almost turned around and fled to my room, but it was as if the words were forced out of me before I could seal my lips. "Mom."

      A moment passed, one that caused me to think she had ignored me, before she slightly turned her head in my direction. "I'm... sorry. For this morning. What I said, I... I didn't mean it." My voice trailed off to a quiet mumble toward the end, but I could tell she had heard me based on her relaxed expression.

      Enough silence passed that I thought that was it, that we would go our separate ways until dinner, but then she cut through it in a small voice. "I'm sorry, too."

      A pursed smile barely curled my lips, and I finally allowed myself to turn and head to the stairs.

      That was a start, at least.

༄༄࿐

      Spider-Man 2 was loading up on my PlayStation when I had pulled out my phone. It had started to rain a few minutes ago, the overcast thick and depressing now, as this city always was. My controller rested on my lap as I laid on my beanbag, and in my other hand was the unfurled piece of paper with Levi's number on it.

      I added him to my contacts before editing his name, twisting my lips to the side as I debated what to make it.

      Name: levi

      I shook my head. Too boring.

      Name: <3

      "Oh my god." I cringed painfully as I hurriedly deleted the symbol.

      Name: nerd

      I chuckled idiotically to myself before clicking on the message icon.

hey

      It only took a few seconds for the three bubbles to appear on screen, and I found myself slightly smiling.

Hey, Eren

?how did u know it was me

I gave you my number two hours ago and got a text from an unknown number that said "hey"

Not that hard to connect the dots

ok sassy

Read 4:07 PM

      I rolled my eyes with a smirk, launching my game file and replacing my phone with my controller.

      I was a few minutes into the mission when I heard the front door shut downstairs. My heart sank when I realized my dad had come home. That was another can of worms I wasn't sure when I'd be willing to open. I ran my fingers over the collar of my T-shirt as I zoned out of the cutscene that had started a few seconds ago.

      I shook my head, grounding myself as I re-focused on the game. I glanced at my can of soda and Telekinetically lifted it to my lips, gently tilting my head back to sip at it despite the cutscene not requiring my hands to be on the controller. Practice was practice. I moved the can away when the soda began to dribble down my chin. "Fuck," I muttered after I swallowed and set the can down with my hand. I needed to get better at that.

      I wiped at my chin before gripping the controller as the game resumed. As soon as I made Miles jump off the roof, I heard heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. He's probably just going to his office to keep working until dinner.

      That's what I had assumed, but when the footsteps slowed in front of my closed door, I held my breath.

      I forced myself to keep playing the game, even as knocking echoed through the room. I didn't respond, suddenly overcome by a sense of bitterness and anger.

      He pushed my door open anyway, and my jamming of the buttons on my controller steadily grew more aggressive as a battle began.

      "Hey, Eren," my father announced from behind me—as if I didn't already know he was intruding. I kept playing the game, taking out my anger on the enemies around me with rigid bones.

      "Can you pause for a moment?" he continued, his voice subdued and calm. I ignored him, continuing to play until a sigh was heard from behind me.

      "About this morning," he began anyway. I sucked in a sharp breath, heat searing behind my eyes as I struggled not to dissociate. "Your mother told me you apologized. That's good." I didn't know where he was going with this—he sounded like he was struggling just to figure out what to say. Was he trying to make me feel worse after what he did?

      "I wanted to say that I'm sorry, as well. Work has been stressful, but that's no excuse for how rough I was with you. I don't agree with how you spoke to your mother, but the two of us should have handled it better."

      I paused the game, staring blankly at the screen. Silence suffered between us, the pitter-patter of rain echoing in the room. My mind was flooded with several black-and-white versions of how to take his words, half of me pawing at his apology with weak fingers to find the sincerity behind it, the other half picking out any hint of falsehood or trick behind them. Trusting my dad in any sense had always been difficult, and this was no different.

      I nibbled on my bottom lip, casting my eyes to the floor as I sensed him behind me, tense, waiting.

      My brain was too overwhelmed and clouded to think about it any longer, so I decided that no response was the only way I could accept his words without blatantly telling him I forgave him. I unpaused the game, continuing the battle, and allowing the action-driven noise to consume the room.

      Not soon after, my dad turned away, leaving and shutting the door quietly behind him.

Chapter Text

Occupied

༄༄࿐

Sixteen years ago

Carla

      I had only recently picked up crocheting, and I was glad that I did. It was a pleasant pastime while I watched Eren play. He was a handful most times, but when he got his hands on his building blocks, they quickly became all that mattered to him. It was a chance for us to bond in the same room together while focusing on separate tasks.

      "Not in your mouth, sweetie," I said with a chuckle. Eren laughed, the sound a playful screech in the otherwise tranquil room. I felt myself  grin as I took a moment to watch him. I could look past his tantrums and mood swings. I knew they were temporary—he was only a toddler, after all. Eren was an absolute gem, and a constant reminder of how happy I was to have an only son like I had always dreamt of. If moments like these could make up the rest of my life, I would be at peace.

      I knew he would grow up, eventually, but I would make sure he remained my baby boy for as long as he could.

      Grisha was in his office, settling a contract for a construction project at the clinic. I was relieved that the start of our family was quaint despite Grisha's richly occupation. I never imaged myself marrying a doctor, but Grisha had changed everything I knew about the medical field.

      I had made one rule when we got married—we wouldn't let our fortune change us. We wouldn't live in a mansion, we would be on friendly terms with our neighbors and active in our community. We wouldn't own gaudy furniture, and we would focus on our family. Humility had always been attractive to me. Grisha had agreed, but part of me knew it had mostly been to please me.

      Even so, everything was going perfectly. It was so different from what I had grown up with.

      Eren was taking a while to speak coherently—longer than most three year olds, at least. Grisha had mentioned a potential learning deficiency, but I thought he was just being pessimistic. My baby could take all the time he needed to improve at communicating. We could understand him well-enough.

      I looked back down at my half-finished, amateur, pastel-pink hat sitting on my lap with a soft shake of my head. I guess I had my own things to work on, too.

      As if on queue, Eren's voice echoed through the room. "Mommy!" he cried happily. I hummed. "Yes, sweetie?" I finished one more stitch before lifting my head to bring my attention to him.

       A gasp ripped from my throat. My wooden crotchet hooks slipped from my grip and rolled onto the floor, my empty hands beginning to tremble in the air.

      I couldn't believe what I was seeing in front of me.

      One of Eren's building blocks was... floating. It was a foot off the ground! It was slowly and mindlessly spinning without pause, as if hung by a string.

      Eren was giggling, his tiny fingers reaching up to play with it, pushing off the corners and making the cube spin faster. Before I knew it, I shot out of my rocking chair, jerking my eyes around the room. My first instinct was to grab my son, who grunted as I pulled him up. The block dropped back to the floor and rolled a couple of feet away. I almost felt lightheaded as I tried to process what had happened, my heart pounding.

      I tightly held Eren to my chest as fear gripped me, backing up until I was inches from the wall. "Leave my house, demon!" I cried, frantically searching the room. I felt crazy for making the demand, but I had heard about this kind of thing before—I had to establish control over the supernatural entity before it wreaked more havoc on my family. I wouldn't let anything hurt my son.

      Nothing happened. Eren whined, uncomfortably squirming in my hold. I didn't want to, but I carefully set him down in front of my legs, swallowing thickly as my entire body seemed to tremble.

      Eren turned to the block that had fallen, eyebrows pinching together before it rose into the air again. I froze.

      Oh god.

      It started floating toward Eren, and I watched with eyes of horror as it fell right into his small hands.

      He giggled, staring with awe at the block before it begun floating again.

      "GRISHAAAA!!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

༄༄࿐

Present Day

Eren

      The weekend had arrived a lot quicker than it normally did. Or, it felt that way, at least. Usually that would have been a good thing, even though I had to work at the store—however, it meant there was no guarantee I would see Levi, which was something I had relied on during the week.

      That didn't mean we couldn't text, however. We had been talking back and forth consistently since the day he gave me his number.

      When I woke up Saturday morning to a notification from him, a lazy smile lifted my lips.

      nerd: Any plans for this weekend?

      I opened it and immediately began texting bac. I didn't care how desperate it made me look—I wasn't the type to leave people waiting to seem like I didn't care as much as I did.

      Well, maybe that was something I would do. But not this time around. Not with Levi.

 /: i have to work

Oh yeah. I forgot you worked at that grocery store I went to. What's the name again?

sina's whole foods

why? did you wanna make big plans with me? ;)

You wish

mmm no i think u do

i get off at 3 if u wanna hang

Do you always text like this?

like what lol

Like a twelve year old.

?have you always looked like one

Yeah you can forget about those plans

noo i'm sorry i couldn't help myself lmao

That was also a weird way of saying you're attracted to twelve year olds.

ok don't make it weird

Get ready for work, pedo. Just text me when you get off

/:

“haha “get off

Read 8:09

      He reacted with a thumbs down to my message, and I huffed a laugh. It was always like that when we texted. Constant teasing. It was relieving to know that it wasn't much different from how we were in person.

      Did I really text like a twelve-year-old? I always thought the way I texted was pretty normal. Everyone in our generation texted like that. Except him, obviously. But he was a literature nerd, so I really couldn't expect anything less.

      Granted, I didn't text people often. God, that sounded pathetic. At least I had the internet to go off of. And movies, but they're all written by old people, so you couldn't really rely on those. 

      I rolled out of bed with a pleased sigh, standing on my feet and reaching up to stretch. I hadn't realized how much waking up to someone actually wanting to talk to me would inflate my mood in the morning. I felt on top of the world.

      I turned to my dresser and quickly stood in a fighting pose, shooting my hand out like Spider-Man and Telekinetically flinging my drawer open from across the room. I switched hands and dramatically pulled out a shirt, acting like I was grabbing it with a web as I shot it toward me with my mind while yanking my hand back.

      Pretending I had a different kind of super power than I actually did was surprisingly fun.

      I pushed my T-shirt drawer closed, clutching the shirt with one hand before changing poses. I flung my other hand out and pulled the drawer that stored my pants open. "You think you stand a chance against me?" I said dramatically. My jeans became a makeshift villain as I Telekinetically pulled out a pair and pretended it was struggling against my web. I dramatically shook my tensed hand as I forced the jeans to hang in the air, making mock sounds of struggle.

      Then, at the worst possible time, my mother knocked once and then instantly pushed the door open without giving me a chance to answer. I jumped, yanking my jeans to my hand and covering the front of my boxers with them. "Dude!" I yelled. She was standing there, looking from my drawer to the clothes in my hands with an amused expression.

      "Were you just pretending to be Spider-Man?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest with a smirk.

      I scoffed. "Oh my fucking god, mom, I'm almost twenty-years-old. Can I get my lock back already?" I whined, shifting back and forth on my feet. I normally at least wore sweatpants to bed, but the heat had been turned up high last night, and my mom did not need to see me in boxers this early in the morning.

      "Language," she began before waving her hand through the air. "And please, there's nothing I haven't seen before. You can get your lock back when we can trust that you deserve one." She repeated the same thing she had been saying for the last four years. Sure, my behavior at fifteen hadn't been what one could consider deserving of a bedroom lock, but come on, I was an adult now. What kind of parent didn't allow their nineteen year old son to have a lock on his door?

      "Whatever," I mumbled. "Can you go? I have to get ready for work."

      She sighed. "Come down for breakfast as soon as you're done, and take your medication. Your father wants to talk to you," she said.

      I raised an eyebrow. "Talk to me? About what?" I pressed cautiously.

      She raised her hands. "That's between you two—I don't want to be the messenger who's shot. I'll see you downstairs; I'm making pancakes again since you missed them last time."

      My shoulders relaxed. It was clear over the last few days since the fight that my parents had been trying to maintain a sense of peace in the house, something we rarely had. Things were still tense at times—I knew they'd always be, there was constantly something left unspoken—but it was... oddly nice to not be bitching at each other all the time. Well, not as much as we usually did.

      "Okay," I answered, and she turned to make her leave.

      "Godspeed, Spider-Man," she said from the hallway, and I grew rigid with embarrassment where I stood.

      "Shut up!" I shouted, and her laughter carried down the hall.

      I groaned, dropping my hands that held my clothes to my sides. Screw her for knowing that reference. We used to have movie nights as a family when we tried to be normal. It was almost a bummer that they had come to a stop over the years. Watching movies on my flat screen alone in my bedroom tended to get a bit boring.

      I wonder what kind of movies Levi likes?

      Clothes in hand, I shuffled to my bathroom, grabbing new boxers from my dresser on my way. When I stepped inside, I shut the door behind me and placed my clothes on the counter. My bathroom didn't have a lock, either, which I thought was borderline abuse, but they claimed having one here would have defeated the purpose of not having the first one. I guess I could see their point. Kind of.

      My tattoo began to itch, as it randomly did on occasion, and I scratched it while turning my back to the mirror and attempting to crane my head to look at it. It was difficult, as always, and I only caught a glimpse. I always had to pull my phone out to look at it properly in the mirror. Maybe getting it on my chest would have been a better idea.

      I still remembered the day I got it like it was yesterday. I was seventeen, and I had impulsively decided I was going to get a tattoo simply because my parents had told me I was going to ruin my body when I brought up the idea of doing it when I was of legal age. So, naturally of course, I did it when it was still illegal. There was a small tattoo parlor just outside of the city whose artist didn't care that I was a year away from being eighteen, and did it only after asking me if I was sure about my decision.

      The design, which was a skull wrapped in a chain with a lock binding it, was something the artist had designed herself. I had resonated with it immediately.

      I didn't regret the tattoo, but I fought not to remember who had been with me the day I received it. I didn't want to admit it, but it had become a bitter reminder each time I looked at it. And now that I thought about it, maybe it was for the best that I got it on my back.

      I forced myself to shrug it off before reaching into the shower and turning the hot water on full blast, slightly twisting the cold knob to join it. I sighed as I stepped back and allowed it to heat up, stripping my boxers off and letting them fall to the floor.

      I stepped into the shower after feeling it was the right temperature while my mind naturally wandered to what my dad wanted to talk about. He hadn't really wanted to 'talk to me' about anything in a while. I wasn't sure whether that changing was a good thing or not, but based on my mom’s reaction to me asking her what it was, I assumed it wasn't going to make me too happy.

      I hadn't entirely forgiven him for what he had done earlier in the week, but after his apology he had been making an effort to converse with me more often, and it was difficult to ignore him.

      Instead of dwelling on it for any longer than I wanted to, I forced my thoughts to trail off as I pushed my hair back beneath the water. My chest inflated as Levi took over my mind in an instant, the same way he'd been for the last several days. It was as if a dam had burst, and he was water that flooded in. My eyes were shut, but my eyebrows pinched together as I felt my heartbeat quicken.

      The sensation of my stomach fluttering, the way the thought of his touch sent tingles through my skin, my rapid heart rate, it was all so new. I hadn't felt this way about anyone before, ever.

      But I loved it. It made me feel alive, like I was an actual living, breathing, human being. Often times I didn't even feel that way. I usually felt like a ghost moving through time without destination, simply going through the motions in the midst of a thick fog.

       Levi had become some sort of anchor. Something that... gave me purpose, gave me feeling. I didn't care what my mom said a few days ago about it only being a couple of weeks. It was rare I could ever make sense of what I was feeling at all—that I could be confident in saying what was in my head was real. There was no way in hell I was going to ignore that now.

      What about your powers?

      "No, no, no, don't think about that," I mumbled into the air, spitting out water as I opened my eyes and reached down for my soap.

      Nothing about what Levi and I had was official yet. We were simply talking, as people called it. I had never been in this phase before, I barely knew how to approach it. Would we become boyfriends at some point? Would we remain in this weird middle-ground phase where we've kissed but don't discuss it?

      What had I told myself? Take it slow. Day by day. Don't worry about what's important yet; let time do its thing.

      Well, so much for not thinking about it. 

      The truth was, yeah, my powers were a factor. So far, my secret hadn't been a problem between us. I hadn't read Levi's mind, and I was planning on keeping it that way. There was no reason to ruin everything between us when it was going perfectly fine so far.

      Maybe that was the goal in having an actual successful relationship with someone. Ignoring my powers while I was with them, pretending they didn't exist, keeping them from the person indefinitely.

      Now was finally my chance to be normal with someone.

      It didn't allow the other person to have leverage over me. It didn't give them a reason to fear, to doubt, to reel in disgust. To look away. It didn't give them power.

      This way, all I had to worry about was who I was as a person.

      And so far, Levi didn't seem to mind that person.

      "Shit," I whispered as heat stirred in my gut. He was so fucking attractive, it was unreal. I planted my hand on the wall, the other holding my soapy loofa by my side. I blinked away the water on my lashes as I focused on the vacant space between myself and the wall. I imagined him filling it, caged in by my body as his back pressed against the cold tile. How he would look with his hair matted to his forehead with water, the shiny black against his porcelain skin as he looked up at me with desperate eyes.

      "Eren, please," I imagined him pleading. His voice was so calm and steady normally, how would his moans sound? Would they be deep and husky, or would they be high and airy?

      "What do you want me to do to you?" I thought about how big my hand would look holding his small waist, encasing him.

      "Touch me," he would beg.

      I dropped the loofa onto the shower floor, wrapping my hand around the base of my already swollen cock. "Fuck," I groaned, clenching my eyes shut as I leaned forward and rested my head against the wall. I couldn't remember the last time I had touched myself, but it was like a sudden compulsion had taken over. The water from the shower head splashed against my back, and I parted my mouth as a ragged sigh escaped me. Water dripped off my lips as I began stroking myself.

      "You're so big," Levi moaned as I thrust inside of him from behind, digging my fingers into his hip. He stood on his tippy-toes to keep himself level with my cock, his back arching as water splashed against it.

      "Fuck, you feel so good. You're so tight," I groaned, reaching up with one hand to yank his hair. He choked out a moan as his neck was forced to crane back, desperately curling his fingers on the wall he was pressed against.

      I stroked myself faster, shaky breaths caking the foggy air as I balled my fist against the tile above my head. I opened my eyes to see beads of pre-cum collecting at the tip. I swiped my thumb over it with a groan, using it to glide my hand over my cock more smoothly.

      "Faster, please, Eren!" Levi begged, pushing back against me as best as he could with each vigorous thrust. I increased my pace, pounding into him as I leaned forward and sunk my teeth into his shoulder. He cried out, pressing his head against mine as I tangled our fingers against the wall.

      "Oh my god, I'm gonna come," Levi moaned.

      "Fuck. I'm gonna fill you up so fucking good," I growled against his skin.

      "Yes, yes, come inside me—"

      I abruptly came against the shower wall with a long, broken gasp, rope after rope of cum shooting against the tile. "Oh–oh, fuck," I whispered shakily, my jaw falling slack as my eyelids fluttered in bliss. My mind went blank, heat searing behind my eyes as each and every one of my nerves felt frayed on end.

      My high felt like it lasted forever. By the time I came down from it, I was so lightheaded from the hot shower I felt like I was going to pass out. I ripped my curtain open and stumbled out, desperate for fresh air as steam clouded the room.

      "Eren, hurry up!" I barely registered my mom calling from my bedroom. I hurriedly grabbed the towel from the rack and threw it around my body, blinking away my shock as my breaths escaped me ragged and heavy.

      “Shit," I mumbled, turning back to the shower and realizing water was spraying all over the floor. I grabbed the shower head and removed it from the holder, pulling it down and using it to wash my cum off the wall.

      Once the evidence of what I'd done was down the drain, I shut off the water. I grabbed my loofa, inspecting it for any unwanted substances before deeming it clean enough and hanging it back on the hook.

      I caught my breath once I stepped away from the shower, the vent humming above the silence of the echoing bathroom. I turned to the fogged-up mirror, facing my clothes before starting to dry off. I hadn't even washed myself. All I'd done was jerk myself off to Levi. 

      And I couldn't lie, it was the quickest and most intense orgasm I'd ever had. And he wasn't even with me.

      Whatever—at least I showered yesterday after school. Technically I didn't even have to shower this morning because I was still clean. That was how it worked, right? The pent-up tension I hadn't realized I was carrying had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt like I was floating with my head above the clouds, and that had certainly made it worth it.

      I guess Levi’s helping me in more ways than one. The thought made me want to laugh in disbelief.

      I plucked my boxers off the pile and let my towel drop to the floor. After pulling them on, my shirt was next, and I shook it out to find out I had grabbed a Slipknot shirt without realizing it. I shrugged, slipping it on—there was no serious dress code for work, but my boss did prefer solid colors. Oh well, she wouldn't fire me. I had read her mind enough to know I was her favorite out of the employees. It made sense—she didn't make me stock the shelves as often as everyone else.

      I rushed out of the bathroom fully dressed, teeth brushed and hair combed—thankful that my mom wasn't there waiting for me—and grabbed my phone I had left on the bed. On my way out of my room, an idea popped into my head, and with a devious grin I opened my text messages with Levi.

      It was incredibly risky, and it could go terribly wrong if Levi took it poorly. This was the kind of text someone might post on Twitter, only for it to go viral, everyone flaming the dude for sending it. But I wasn't one to back away from a risk. From what I knew of Levi so far, something told me he wouldn't be opposed to it.

hey

Hey?

you told me to text you when i got off

?

It's been like 15 minutes

i know

;)

Oh?

      I bit my lip on a nervous smile as I mindlessly walked down the stairs at a turtle's pace, eyes glued to my phone.

Were you thinking of me?

      My eyes grew slightly wide as my heart skipped a beat. He had caught on so quickly. Should I tell him the truth?

      Fuck it. I've already come this far.

maybe

Good boy

      I almost tripped as I abruptly came to a stop halfway down the stairs, bracing one hand on the wall. "Holy fuck," I whispered to myself, rereading the text over and over to make sure I was seeing the right words. I was debating asking him if he was into that kind of thing before my mom's voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

      "Eren, what are you doing?" I jumped, quickly pocketing my phone as I lifted my head. She eyed me curiously with her arms crossed over her chest. "Come on, the pancakes are getting cold." She nodded her head toward the kitchen with an eyebrow quirked in what seemed to express both concern and curiosity, and I cleared my throat before casually walking the rest of the way down.

      She eyed my cheeks strangely when I was close to her—my heart skipped a beat, as they were only centimeters away from meeting my eyes. They never got that close; the highest she ever went was my chin.

      "Are you... blushing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as she scanned my face.

      My mouth fell open as I reeled my head back. "What? No," I quickly denied, despite fully being able to admit to myself that that was possible. I had already discovered that Levi was capable of pulling such a reaction out of me. But there was no universe that existed where I would ever admit that to my mother.

      She lingered her eyes on me for a moment longer before giving a suspicious hum and returning to the kitchen. I followed her with a hand rubbing the back of my neck, thinking about the fact that I'd left Levi on read. I didn't want him to think I didn't approve of what he'd said.

      On the contrary, I thought it was really hot.

      But a part of me, one that had been dormant until now, wanted to call him that instead as he rode me.

      "Eren!" my mother shouted.

      I blinked up at her from the kitchen entryway, startled. "What?" I asked, my heart beating quicker. I had nothing to worry about—I was the one who could read minds, not her.

      She waved to my medication on the table. "Are you even listening? Come on, take your medication and come eat," she said exasperatedly. I wasn't sure how many times she had repeated herself before her voice had finally registered.

      I quickly sat down at the island, and my mouth watered at the sight of the steaming pancakes in front of me. "Hey, Michelangelo," my dad said from his seat. 

      My face contorted as I gawked at him. "What?" I said in utter confusion. It took me seconds of him smirking down at his pancakes in silence before it dawned on me.

      He had made a fucking Spider-Man reference.

      "You told him? Seriously!?" I turned to my mom, and she was laughing in front of the sink.

      "I had to! I hadn't seen you play Spider-Man in years," she excused.

      I scoffed. "I can't trust any of you," I mumbled bitterly.

      My dad chuckled. "Lighten up, Eren. It is funny," he added. I rolled my eyes, but left it at that. Now I knew, even if I was in a good mood, I couldn't risk being silly in the mornings. There were traitors around every corner.

      "You don't have very much time; try to be quick," Mom reminded me from the other side of the island. I quickly popped open the bottles of pills and downed each dose with the glass of orange juice that had already been beside my plate. As soon as the godawful things were swallowed, I piled three pancakes onto the ceramic and begun dressing them.

      "Easy on the syrup, Eren, goodness," Mom berated once she turned to me with her tea in hand, but I barely gave her words a thought as my phone buzzed in my pocket. After placing the bottle of syrup down I lifted my hips and pulled it out, my fork dangling in my other hand. It clattered onto my plate when I haphazardly dropped it after seeing a notification from Levi.

      "Jesus, Eren," my mom muttered.

nerd: Too much?

      I quickly opened it, too anxious to allow another second of him believing that was the case.

not at all. sorry my mom was on my ass

so you're into that stuff?

      It didn't take him very long to start replying, and I found myself sighing a breath of relief.

I'm into a lot of stuff. 

oh yeah? like what?

You're gonna have to find that out yourself

      "Seriously? No phones at breakfast, you know that." My mom said, pausing my response as I was in the middle of typing it.

      I looked up at her and scoffed. "Dad reading the newspaper is basically the same as me being on my phone. That man can't hear a word we say." I nodded toward him for emphasis and my mom looked at him.

      Dad raised his head up from the paper in his hand to eye us curiously. "Hmm?" he hummed cluelessly, and I sent my mom a deadpan expression.

      She huffed. "Well—electronics this early are bad for you. Who are you talking to, anyway?" I promptly ignored her, returning to my phone where Levi was waiting for my response.

you gotta give me something at least 

      My mom scoffed, and in my peripheral I caught her looking at my dad and waving a hand at me in disbelief. My dad was already reinvested in his newspaper and didn't know even notice her frustration. After a few seconds of silence from Levi, I put my phone down on my lap and began eating my pancakes.

      "It's Levi, isn't it?" I looked up at my mom to see her engrossed in her green tea despite asking the question.

      "So?" I asked. I couldn’t help but raise my guard after her comment from a few days ago. She hadn't mentioned Levi much since.

      "There's nothing wrong with making friends. Frankly, you need some. But—are you sure getting that... close is a good idea? What about your..." she trailed off pitifully, pursing her lips and mindlessly gesturing to an invisible object.

      I scoffed with a roll of my eyes. "My powers? It's not a curse word, mom." The conversation seemed to draw the attention of my dad as he lowered his newspaper to look at us. My mom looked down with a pinched expression.

      "And—I've already decided. Things are gonna be different this time. I'm older now, I won't make the same mistake I did before. I've decided I'm not going to tell him about my powers. He won't know a thing, and I plan to keep it that way. I'll have you know, I haven't even read his mind," I stated matter-of-factly, a sense of pride beneath my tone.

      Silence fell over the room. I watched my mom steal a glance at my dad. Their expressions were unreadable, but they looked at each other as if they were communicating with unspoken words. My mom looked down at her tea and slowly nodded. "Well... I'm... glad to hear that," she forced out in an overly cordial tone.

      "Are you now?" I said with a doubtfully raised eyebrow.

      She nodded again, more assured this time. "Yes. I think that's how it should be. And the less people know, the better. You don't know who you can trust," she said. "It was bad enough that—"

      My dad quickly cut her off. "Honey," he said pointedly. The room was silent as I glanced at my him. We both were painfully aware of the statement that was only moments from leaving her mouth, and for once, I was grateful for my dad’s rare interjection.

      I sighed, checking my phone to see that Levi hadn't texted back. My heart sank slightly despite knowing he could easily have become busy doing something.

      "Yeah, I know," I muttered dejectedly.

      Dad and I continued eating in silence while Mom drank her tea, and I spent half of the time periodically checking my phone.

      "By the way, I have officially hired the new doctor at the clinic." My father cut through the silence with a surprisingly calm and mildly enthusiastic tone.

      "Oh yeah? That's exciting. You mentioned she's very qualified," my mom replied. I was indifferent to the news, but I did remember that my dad didn't often hire new doctors. It had definitely been a few years, at least.

      He nodded. "Hanji Zoe is her name. Doctor Zoe. Bachelor's Degree, Masters degree, a Ph. D. and history as a certified nurse. She has both a medical and a psychiatric license." I wanted to roll my eyes, but damn that was fucking impressive.

      My mom raised her eyebrows significantly. "Wow! That's dedication," she said.

      "Yep. Ten years of schooling. I almost couldn't believe her resume, but she has the documentation to prove it. She's my first doctor qualified to work equally in both buildings. It's been very interesting seeing her work. However... she is a bit of an odd ball," he said.

      I snorted. "Someone who goes to college for that long has to have a few loose screws," I mumbled, and my mom clicked her tongue in disapproval.

      "Her brilliance and work ethic makes up for it. I'll be overseeing her training this week," my dad continued.

      "I'm sure she'll be a great asset to the team," my mom added before taking a sip of her tea. He hummed in agreement.

      "Hey, Eren," he resumed after a moment of silence.

      "Hm?" I responded, shoving another forkful of pancakes into my mouth.

      "I know you have your reservations about visiting the clinic, but a lot has changed since you've last gone—" I immediately groaned and covered my face with one hand. "—I would love for you to join me on Monday after school, everyone has been asking about you. I even have a little task for you to partake in that I think you'll enjoy," he finished calmly. His tone reeked of opportunistic optimism that made me want to shiver in my seat.

      I had already forgotten he had wanted to talk to me, but I should have expected this; he usually tried to convince me to come to work with him at least a couple of times a month. Each time he had been met with firm denial or simply a brush off my shoulder depending on the mood I was in.

      But wow, the man would just not let up, would he? I remembered how disappointed he had been when I'd spat in his face how vile I thought the place was when I was fifteen. It was obvious he had been patiently trying to find his opportunity to prove himself to me. He always took pride in his work.

      "A task? What kind of task?" I raised an eyebrow as my mom asked the question, glancing up at her between my fingers. He hadn't talked to her about whatever he had planned? They usually discussed everything together. Hmm...

      "Just something simple alongside me to help one of the nurses out. I think it'll be a fun bonding activity and help boost morale. You should hear some of them rave about you," he said. Although he had been answering mom at first, he was still directing his words to me.

      "Just—let me show you that it isn't as bad as you deem it to be. It really is a nice, safe place for our patients. There's a reason I've had almost the same staff since the beginning," he continued. The air was tense, I could practically feel my mom holding her breath. It was obvious they were expecting backlash, as usual.

      I sighed, pinching the skin between my eyebrows as I zoned in on my plate. A buzz from my phone caused the corner of my lips to slightly curl into a downturned smile, one that was hidden from my parents by my hand.

      "If I agree this time, will you get off my back?" I let my hand drop to my phone and leaned back in my seat, looking over at my dad. He blinked at my chest, his eyebrows raised. I glanced at my mom, who was wearing an equally as shocked expression, her lips slightly parted. Had I really surprised them that much with my answer? I get that I've been stubborn, but damn.

      "I have a feeling you're gonna want to return, but for the sake of compromising, sure, I'll stop asking you as frequently from now on." The agreement that was clearly forced, but he seemed satisfied nonetheless. Whatever helped him sleep at night.

      "Alright... well, now that that's settled, you better get to work. I'll drive you since you took a while to get ready." My mom stood up with her teacup, turning and setting it into the sink. Normally I walked to work since my mom liked to relax on weekends, so the ride was appreciated since I did get a little ahead of myself this morning—and it was only getting colder as Thanksgiving approached.

      I sighed as I thought about Levi, shoving another bite of my cold pancakes into my mouth and quickly looking at my phone while my mom got herself together.

      nerd: Patience is a virtue

      I rolled my eyes to myself with a smirk, standing up from my seat and pushing my phone into my pocket.

      He really was going to be the death of me.

༄༄࿐

      Work was boring, as usual. The most eventful thing that had happened was someone knocked down a glass bottle of cranberry juice in isle seven, which shattered, and my co-worker Ayanne was the one assigned to clean it up.

      "Fuck you," she spat as I laughed at her, throwing up my middle finger as she stalked away with the mop.

      It was another one of those cold rainy days where not a lot of people decided to go out and shop until the bad weather passed. Every few minutes someone would come inside, get a few things and then flee to their home.

      As usual, Ayanne and I were the cashiers on the schedule this afternoon, the only other employees in the building being the prep cooks in the back, the baker, and our manager. The constant downtime allowed me to pull out my phone more often as I leaned against my lane's register. One thing led to another, and soon I found myself texting Levi again.

work is boring

That doesn't matter. You still shouldn't be on your phone

ok i change my mind, ur more boring than work

Mhm. Sure. You'll thank me when you don't get reprimanded

my boss literally doesn't care

Something tells me that's not true

ok but have you ever worked a day in ur life?

Actually, I had a part-time job at the library in Mitras 

🤓☝️

You're so irksome.

i bet i made u laugh

If that would help you sleep at night

      I lifted my head when Ayanne's voice cut through the air. "Woah. I haven't seen you smile like that since that little kid fell by the milk a few months ago," she said with a raised eyebrow.

      "That was pretty fucking funny. Too bad I got yelled at for laughing," I said before noticing someone was walking toward my lane with their cart. A spark of irritation hit me as I set my phone down and prepared the conveyor belt. She was a regular customer, an old woman with a walker who must have stood at a whopping four feet eleven inches—though that could have partially been due to her bowed spine.

      "Good afternoon, Eren," her trembling voice greeted me.

      "Hello, Glenda," I said with forced politeness. It wasn't that I disliked her, don't get me wrong, but the ten years she took to put five items onto the conveyor belt was even more painful to get through than usual considering I was itching to return to my phone.

      "You always remind me of my grandson with your hair out like that. So handsome," she said before setting her carton of eggs down with two shaking hands. That was the third time she had told me, but she didn't have to know that.

      I gave her a forced smile, which went unnoticed, focused on the nuts she was slowly reaching into her cart for.

      "Want me to help you with the rest of those, Glenda?" I offered, tapping my foot anxiously as my fingers curled over my register.

      "Oh, always so polite. I think I can handle it," she said with a gravely chuckle, completely oblivious to my distress. She started coughing as she placed the nuts down.

      Maybe she'll finally keel over and she won't be my problem anymore.

      I widened my eyes to myself, thankful that she wasn't looking. Holy fuck, Eren. That was terrible.

      I almost burst out laughing, but I managed to hold myself back with a tight purse of my lips. 

      I rushed through the bagging and payment process as quickly as I could when she finally finished placing the rest of her items on the conveyor belt, handing over her change and cringing as she took forever to meticulously put it away.

      Then, Glenda said the worst thing that could have possibly escaped her old, wrinkly lips.

      "Will you please help me bring these bags to my car, dear?" I clenched my eyes shut as she turned away, imagining the store exploding with myself and everyone in it.

      "Not a problem," I painfully forced out as I opened my eyes, glancing up to see Ayanne looking at me curiously.

      I quickly rounded my lane and grabbed the two bags that I had filled, rushing in front of Glenda—who was unfolding her umbrella—and beginning to lead us out of the store. My heart practically dropped when I realized that she was ancient and two of her steps assisted by her walker equaled six of mine.

      I wanted to punch myself for being so impatient. I had been doing this for over three years, why was this such a struggle now? It wasn't like this job had ever been riveting, but come on, get yourself together. Levi wasn't going to give up on me because I stopped texting him while doing my job. Right? He wanted me to wait until my shift ended, anyway. Not that that was going to stop me.

      It definitely felt like it took an entire five minutes to get to her car, but when I placed the bags in the trunk of her century old tan Toyota Avalon and bid her goodbye, I practically sprinted back inside the store. At least I had the rain to blame if anyone had seen me.

      When I returned to my lane, Ayanne was eyeing me weirdly before beginning to help a customer who—thankfully—brought their cart to her before beginning to rave about Ayanne's red hair. After looking around for my boss and deeming the coast clear, I grabbed my phone again.

so what do u wanna do after i get off?

What kind of "get off" are you implying this time?

sadly the less fun kind

We can always go to the park again

that's not the only place on earth

why don't we get food somewhere? i'll pay

Ohh, treating me to a date now are we? Classy

what can i say, i'm a real lady's man

As long as you're not expecting a lady between my legs

you mean you don't have an erotic dancer in a sparkly red dress down there? disappointed tbh

      "Seriously, who are you talking to?" Ayanne's voice cut through the air again just as her customer began to leave with their bags. She abandoned her lane and walked to mine with her arms crossed over her chest.

      "Your mom," I blurted without thinking, and I had to suck in my lips with a pursed smile to hide the surprise and amusement that spread over my face. She blinked her amber eyes at me, and a moment of silence passed before we simultaneously burst out laughing. She was like, thirty, so the fact that that joke even landed was definitely a relief.

      "Fuck you. I'm serious. You always look so depressed while you're here, it's weird to see you all... happy," she added with a wave of her hand, gesturing at my entire person.

      I debated telling her it was none of her business, but I reconsidered it after a moment of thought. She was only my co-worker, there was no harm in indulging her curiosity. I knew she was just as bored as I usually was.

      "You know that guy that came in last week? I helped carry his bags to his car?" I began, combing my damp hair back with my hand.

      I figured if she didn't remember, it wasn't worth explaining. But surprisingly, she nodded her head. "The short one?" she confirmed.

      I chuckled. "Yeah, him. He goes to my school and I got his number." I wasn't sure how much more I wanted to explain, but she seemed to put two and two together as a smug expression took over her.

      "Ohhh, I see. Little Jaeger is finally getting some action," she teased.

      I scoffed. "Never say that again, thanks," I said flatly, and she chuckled.

      "That's cool though, I'm happy for you." The sincerity in her voice caught me off guard.

      "Thanks," I muttered awkwardly. "Now go back to your lane before everyone's thinks I'm the only one open," I added, shooing her away before returning to my phone.

      "Yeah, yeah," she mumbled before throwing her hands up and turning away.

༄༄࿐

      The end of my shift couldn't have arrived any faster. When I received the "I'll pick you up" text from Levi, I should have been more embarrassed than giddy. But instead, my heart was racing and I felt like skipping through the door.

      "Don't piss your pants," Ayanne said as I closed my register.

      "You'd like that, asshole. Bye." I waved as I jogged toward the door. I caught my boss eyeing me weirdly from the end of isle two, where she was reorganizing shelves. I didn't have time to read her mind as I was rushing out, and frankly, I didn't care for once.

      Levi was waiting outside in the Ford GT. I could spot it immediately, because it was the best looking car in the lot. Even our neighborhood didn't have that many high-end sports cars. It was mostly a bunch of boring Teslas.

      I rounded the car and tried to open the door, but it was locked. Levi lifted his head from his phone to look at me and quickly unlocked the doors. I pulled it open and slid into the comfortable seat, locking eyes with him.

      The second the corner of his lips quirked upward at me, I was flooded with memories from this morning. "Hey," he said. Although we had been texting all day, it took seeing his face again to remember how much he had turned me on. It wasn't like it was a dirty secret that I had jerked off to him, I had been immediately transparent about what I'd done. Yet still, something curled in my gut.

      "Hey," I replied. There was a knowing glimmer in his eyes I knew I couldn't blame on the grey clouds. It told me he, too, was remembering this morning.

      I cleared my throat, attempting to push it to the back of my mind. I tried to ignore the fact that he'd be able to use it against me now. I looked around, admittedly awkward at first, but was quickly marveled by the crisp and flawless interior of the car.

      "I can't believe your uncle lets you drive this," I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

      Levi glanced around as if he was reminding himself of how expensive it all was. "At first he would have rather passed away, but there was about a month in Mitras where the SUV was getting repaired and I had to drive this around when he was busy working, since he was averse to me walking or taking the bus. It was essentially a matter of forced trust," he explained.

      I hummed. "That makes sense. You don't have to lock the doors in the parking lot, by the way. This is a really good area; nothing ever happens," I told him.

      He shrugged. "It's just habitual. Better safe than sorry, anyway," he said.

      I shrugged. "I guess." I didn’t know much about Mitras crime rate. How dangerous could a tiny down really be?

      "So, where are you treating me today? You have to show me the good food spots in the city," he said before starting the engine. The purr that rumbled through the car made me almost jitter in my seat.

      I smirked as a thought came to mind. "There's this really good McDonald's down the road," I said.

      Levi gave me an empty stare. "Classy," he said flatly.

      I chuckled. "I'm just fucking with you. Hmm... let me think." I stared off into the distance as I considered where a good place to eat would be. The only time I would indulge in eating out was when I stopped for fast food while walking home after work. My parents and I went out occasionally, but my mom loved to cook home meals, so it was far and in between.

      The real question was, what would Levi like?

      "What kind of food are you into?" I decided to ask.

      He shrugged, tapping one finger on the steering wheel. "Anything, really. I'm not finicky."

      I rolled my eyes. "That's such a basic response; what am I supposed to do with that?" I helplessly raised my hand in the air beside me.

      Levi scoffed. "A real gentleman chooses for the person who doesn't know what they want to eat," he stated with a mockingly posh tone. I rolled my eyes despite the slight smile that lifted the corners of my lips. "I will indulge you, though. I love sweets and often times I don't have the biggest appetite. That's the only help you're receiving," he added.

      I nodded slowly. "I can work with that."

      Sweets... not huge portions... I looked Levi up and down where he sat in the driver’s seat—noting his black sweater with frayed edges, dark olive-green cargo pants and black chain. His pale skin contrasted the dark outfit with his small hands, narrow neck, and porcelain features. As he looked ahead at someone walking into the store, I admired how his black hair framed his face and gracefully fell over his forehead, his posture and expression relaxed.

      He almost reminded me of a black cat.

      Then, it dawned on me. "Do you like cats?" I asked.

      He perked up, turning toward me in the seat. "They're my favorite animal. Why?" he replied.

      I could feel myself light up, growing excited as I tapped my thighs. "I know exactly where we're going, then. Let's go, I'll direct you." I ushered my hands toward the wheel, encouraging him to start driving.

      He quickly switched gears. "Okay, okay! You're not going to tell me where we're going? What do cats have to do with it?" he asked.

      "If you haven't figured it out yet, it needs to stay a surprise," I insisted, and he rolled his eyes with a smirk.

      "Just put your seatbelt on, asshole," he said, and I grinned before reaching up to pull it over my chest.

Chapter Text

The Cat Café

༄༄࿐

      Despite my aversion to most animals, especially the aloof creatures cats were and my history with them, something about making Levi happy with my decision on where to take him had swept it all aside.

      "Take a left up here," I said once he reached the first intersection. When the arrow turned green he smoothly turned onto the main road, the car barely making a sound as he pressed down onto the gas. The more time I spent in here, the more it made me want to get my license.

      "I should really learn how to drive," I muttered. Despite the fact that I could pay for classes myself, I knew getting my license was virtually impossible without a car to drive and my parents becoming suspicious. I think I said it to express some sense of normalcy and competence to Levi. To make it seem like it was merely a matter of me not having learned yet, and nothing else.

      He glanced at me before returning his focus to the road. "I could teach you, if you want," he said.

      I perked up as I turned my head to him in surprise. "Yeah?"

      He shrugged as we came up on another red light. "I mean, yeah, why not?" he replied once we stopped, propping his elbow on the door and resting his chin against his fist.

      I huffed a laugh. "You send all kinds of mixed signals, you know? First, you're obsessed with school, then you skip two periods with me. Then you tell me not to text while I'm at work because I might get in trouble, but now you want to illegally teach me how to drive when I don't even have a permit?" I smirked at him, but he didn't seem flustered by my statement. He appeared unfazed, staring at the red light as he continued to rest his chin on his hand.

      "One thing doesn't exclude the other. I've learned as I've gotten older how to separate the things are more trivial and the things that really matter. Life isn't all that black and white for me, I make my decisions based on how they benefit myself and other's lives. It's all relative," he explained.

      I stiffened, slowly lifting a hand to rub the back of my neck as I stared at the dashboard. That was almost the complete opposite of how I thought. I wasn't sure how much he knew about BPD, or if he knew anything at all, but would it make him uncomfortable to know that most of the time I felt incapable of that kind of gray thinking?

      "Yeah... that makes sense," I lied just as the light turned green.

      "Does it?" he replied, catching me off guard.

      "What?" I asked, mildly offended. Did he think I was stupid or something?

      He let out a humored breath through his nose. "I didn't mean it that way. It's perfectly fine to not understand or agree with how I perceive things. That's the beauty of free thinking, is it not? As long as you're not being an asshole about it, that's all that matters to me." He glanced at me with a small smirk. I relaxed my shoulders as I digested his words. Although I didn't think he could ever grasp the fucked-up perception I struggled with, it was relieving to know he was okay with our differences.

      At least, the differences he was aware of.

      "It's not that I don't understand it, it's just..." I trailed off, struggling to grasp how I wanted to explain it—if I wanted to explain it at all.

      But Levi spoke up before I could decide. "It's okay, you don't have to elaborate." His voice held an air of sincerity to it despite its monotonous tone, and we looked at each other for a fleeting moment. I could see the understanding swimming in his eyes. I couldn't ignore how comforting it was, even as conflict simmered in my chest.

      "Thanks," I mumbled, and he nodded.

      "Where am I going?" I huffed a short laugh, thankful that he had changed the subject even if it was necessary.

      "Take a right at this light," I told him as I oversaw the area. We were close, quickly plunging into the heart of downtown.

      "It's much different down here than it is where we live. It's so..." he trailed off.

      "Loud," I finished for him, but he shook his head.

      "I was gonna say nice." I raised an eyebrow at him, and he caught it with a glance before explaining. "I wasn't kidding about wanting to live in a big city. Mitras was so humdrum, even downtown didn't feel this busy. It's a tiny town with mousey people," he said.

      "Was it really that small?" I asked.

      He scoffed. "God, you have no idea. I wanted to hang myself it was so stodgy," he said morbidly. "I've written several poems about it."

      I snorted. "Remind me never to visit, then," I said.

      He shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of it."

      As we got closer to our destination, I spoke up. "This is State Street, it runs through most of the city. We're close, it's just a couple of blocks ahead," I told him.

      He slowed down as traffic began to increase, lights becoming more frequent. He surveyed the main road we were on with fond eyes. People were walking about despite the weather, umbrellas out, and dogs or children by their side. "I've been downtown a couple of times since we moved here, but they were short-lived outings. I haven't had any time to appreciate it. The architecture is so nice," Levi said.

      I shrugged. "It's rustic. That's what a lot of people like about Sina. They don't think it'll last, though. More and more people are moving here and modernizing it," I said.

      He twisted his lips to the side, glancing at me knowingly, and I realized what I had said. "You're the exception," I told him with a smirk, and he rolled his eyes. "It's true. You're from an even smaller town. The people changing things here are the ones from big cities who want to live the small-town-life, but gradually turn it into what they're used to anyway," I explained.

      "Better make the most of it before it changes then, huh?" he said.

      I nodded. "When the weather gets better, if it doesn't snow soon, we can come back and walk around—show you all the local shops," I offered.

      A slight smile lifted his lips. "I'd like that."

      I eyed him, but he kept his eyes on the road, a warm hue dusting his cheeks.

      I cleared my throat, looking ahead. "It's up here on the right. Just park at the first spot you see. It's meter parking, usually, but you don't have to pay on weekends," I told him.

      "That's convenient," he said as he eyed the side of the road for parking spots. It didn't matter that he was going slow, everyone had to expect that on State Street.

      He eventually found one a few feet in front of the café and signaled. Luckily he didn't seem to realize what we were parking in front of, too focused on beginning to parallel park between what looked to be a pickup truck and an SUV.

      I heard him suck in a breath as he turned the wheel and looked behind him. "Is it really as hard as people say it is?" I asked.

      "Don't talk to me," he rushed to say, and I pursed my lips on an amused smile as he inched the Ford backward. He continuously jerked his head from side to side, looking at every single angle possible, while simultaneously turning the wheel. People were passing him on the road, and the anxiety radiating off of him was palpable.

      I remained silent as he slid into the space, despite the impulsive thoughts telling me to disrupt him that egged me on. I wouldn't be that much of a dick. Yet, at least.

      When he finally came to a stop, he let out a deep, heavy sigh, the breath seeming to dissipate the tension in his shoulders. "If I knew it was that bad I would have suggested we parked in the lot down the block—I could have paid," I told him through a smirk.

      He shot a nasty sideways glare at me before relaxing. "It's just this fucking car. If I didn't learn how to seamlessly parallel park, I would have kissed driving it goodbye. I think it would be the end for my uncle if I damaged it—well, the end for me, first, then him," he told me.

      "Well, if you do end up teaching me how to drive, we'll definitely use his Tucson," I said.

      He lulled his head to the side to look at me plainly. "Don't worry; I'm not an idiot," he said with his lips quirked up. He wrapped his hand over the handle of an umbrella that I hadn't even noticed until now. Of course he was prepared.

      "Alright, let's go," I said, grinning with a giddy pat to my lap. We unbuckled our seatbelts and I shot out of the car, shrugging my shoulders in at the cold air. Luckily, it had dwindled from pouring rain to a light mist.

      "Why do you never wear a jacket?" he commented with a raised eyebrow after rounding the car to meet me, the umbrella open above his head.

      "I do, sometimes, but it gets stuffy in the store and it's too much of a hassle to keep around. Plus—it's not that cold, yet. Just wait until January," I told him, smiling.

      He rolled his eyes, rubbing his arm with a shiver despite his sweater. "Let's just get inside, wherever we're going," he said, looking around. The café was wedged between a salon and a bookstore, and if you weren't looking for the sign, it was easy to miss.

      "Right over here," I told him, and he followed me with his free hand tucked under his arm. I tried not to smirk at the way he had to significantly raise his arm to allow me under the umbrella, but if I had to guess, offering to hold it for him would have been more insulting than helpful.

      When we reached the large floor-to-ceiling window on the right of the café, he immediately gasped. A small black kitten was sitting on a cat tree behind it. As Levi neared it, it raised a tiny paw and placed its pink pads on the glass. "Oh my god, it's so small..." he said quietly. "Is this a shelter?" he asked, glancing up at me.

      "Nah, look." I nodded up at the sign hanging above the first door, and he jerked his head up to read it.

      "Crumbs And Whiskers Catfé? This is a cat café? In Sina?!" he asked, bewildered.

      "No, a cat just snuck into this place and they haven't been able to get it out, so they rebranded," I joked. He rolled his eyes, but my sarcasm didn't diminish the joy that had crossed over his expression. "Let's go," I said, opening the door for him. He hurried inside while closing his umbrella, and I followed him with a proud grin.

      We were immediately hit with the smell of fresh pastries and roasted coffee beans, the mix permeating the air with a sweet and rich aroma. On the right was a row of hooks that also harbored a few umbrellas, and Levi hung his near the end after clipping it shut.

      "Have you been here before?" He asked as he looked around, appreciating the cozy interior with fond eyes.

      "Once with my parents when it first opened a couple years ago. I didn't hang out with the cats, though—my mom doesn't like them." 

      Levi turned to look up at me with a bewildered expression. "Your mother doesn't like cats? Is she even human?" he asked, appalled.

      I let out a snort. "I ask myself the same question all the time."

      He shook his head as we slowly made our way to the register. The barista, a freckled woman whose bleach-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, smiled at us politely. I caught Levi looking around curiously. "Where are the cats?" he asked, and I nudged his shoulder before nodding my head toward our right once I caught his attention.

      There was a large window stretching several feet across the wall that peered into the lounge where the cats resided. There was a brown tabby on the other side, sitting on a table and looking into the café. Levi raised his eyebrows. "I didn't even see that."

      "We have to keep them separate from the café area for health reasons," the barista cut in, her tone light and welcoming. "Did you want to book an appointment to visit them today?"

      "Yes, please, for two people. How does it work?" I asked without hesitation. Levi glanced up at me curiously.

      "It's ten dollars for thirty minutes and fifteen for an hour—the fee goes directly back to the cats and their needs. If you want to extend your visit, there's a fifty percent discount," she explained.

      I shrugged, turning to Levi. "Do you want to go in for an hour?”

      He blinked up at me with those bright, silver eyes. "You don't have to spend that kind of money on me, I can always come back another time and have my uncle pay," he said.

      I immediately shook my head. "I told you I was treating you, didn't I? And trust me, I can afford it," I assured, smirking down at him.

      He rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I'm paying you back when I can," he said. I shook my head with a small smile. There was no way I was letting him pay me back, but he didn't have to know that.

      The barista watched us patiently, and I caught a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Two for an hour is fine," I told her.

      She smiled with a nod before tapping the screen in front of her. "Did you want to get anything to drink or eat? You can bring it into the lounge with you," she said, gesturing to their menu and bakery case.

      I looked down at Levi. "Get whatever you want," I told him, and he glared up at me. I chuckled quietly, and he slowly stalked over to the bakery case to scrutinize it.

      I made eye contact with the barista as Levi browsed; she was grinning at me knowingly. Before I could hesitate, I read her mind.

      ” They're so cute. Polar opposites. This guy is a keeper for sure.”

      There was a weird sensation in my chest upon her eyes tearing away, and I slid my bottom lip between my teeth before forcing myself to look at the menu. On top of her thoughts was a familiar feeling of looming despair. Depression. It was a blanket of hollowness I could sense within anyone suffering from it whenever I read their mind. I had long since become desensitized to it.

      She had called us cute. She had called me a keeper. Was I worthy of such a confident statement? It was clear I didn't even believe it myself. Not to mention the elephant in the room—being where Levi and I stood relationship-wise.

      Slow. You're taking it slow.

      But did he even know that?

      No. You haven't talked about it, dipshit.

      I had to take a deep breath when it suddenly felt like my lungs weren't taking in enough air. It was probably the anxiety that had suddenly taken ahold of me.

      Levi jerked me out of my muddled conflict by announcing what he wanted. I quickly settled on a ham and provolone sandwich paired with an iced tea, while he ordered a raspberry puff pastry glazed with white frosting and an iced white chocolate lavender mocha. "You really do like sweets," I teased.

      He playfully slapped my arm. "I've had a sweet tooth since the day I could eat solid food. It's not my fault you're boring," he said, and I caught the barista giggling at us as I began to pay.

      While she made our drinks and prepared our food, we had to individually sign a paper disclosing that we understood the risks cats posed and we wouldn't hold the café accountable for any bites or scratches. We did so without complaint before she gave us a drink carrier to bring our drinks into the lounge with. I carried them along with my sandwich, while Levi held his pastry and some napkins. We were directed to the door that lead to the lounge and headed through it once Levi pulled it open with his free hand.

      We entered the vestibule that divided the cats from the café—I only found out about that word because of Jeopardy with my parents—and Levi began reading over the lounge information. "All of the cats are adoptable," he noted.

      "Thinking about getting one?" I said as I lingered behind him, not bothering to read but merely skimming my eyes over the words.

      He sighed. "I wish, but my uncle might finally snap if I bring one home. Plus, we have no idea how one would handle TenSoon. He's a gentle giant, but the cat might be the issue," he replied.

      I scrunched my nose up at the memory of his giant wolfhound knocking me to the ground. His body weight probably consisted of over ten cats alone. "Fair point."

       "We have to remove our shoes," he announced as he finished reading.

      "Afraid to stink up the place?" I teased.

      He shot a pointed stare at me. "Actually, I was horrified to find out what yours smell like," he bit back.

      "I'll have you know, I showered this morning," I said with a wink. He narrowed his eyes at me knowingly before turning away with a smirk.

      I toed off my shoes beside a few other pairs that were already there, while he set his plate down and unlaced his boots. He placed his neatly atop the shoe rack, and tsked before grabbing mine and setting them next to his.

      I stuck my tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes before grabbing his plate and carefully opening the door.

      Immediately, a thin orange tabby with long scrawny legs tried to get past us. "Oh—" Levi began, stretching out his only free hand. I instinctively moved my leg to the side to block it from escaping, despite a buried, more cynical version of myself demanding I stopped it with Telekinesis. That would have not been a very bright idea. But at least I was still capable of making bright ideas at the moment.

      Levi lowered his hand, ready to catch the cat as it tried to dart around our legs, but a woman ran up to us and quickly grabbed him before he could. "Sorry! This is Beeble. He's an escape artist whenever someone opens the door," she heaved, and the cat wiggled in her arms in an attempt to flee.

      Levi shut the door behind us, smirking fondly as we walked further inside. "Sneaky Beeble," he muttered. 

      When the woman let Beeble go—he ran at full speed in the other direction—she straightened up and greeted us. "Hi! Sorry that was your first impression. How long are you guys in here for?" she asked politely.

      "An hour," Levi answered as I looked down at the badge across her chest. It read VOLUNTEER in bold lettering.

      "Awesome. Thanks for coming in! I'm Amy, the volunteer here. If you have any questions about the lounge or the kitties, let me know," she said warmly before walking off to a timer resting on the table beside the door.

      "Holy shit," Levi said, in awe as he took in our surroundings. There had to have been around twelve cats lounging or walking around, all carrying from different colors, shapes, and sizes—but that was just how many we could see.

      I nodded toward a table ahead of us that was pushed against the wall, itching to set my stuff down. He agreed and we met on either side of the table, placing our food and drinks on it and pulling out our chairs to sit down across from one another. I took a sip of my iced tea, sighing at how refreshing it was.

      "There are so... many of them," I said, eyeing a black and white tuxedo cat who meowed, the sound loud and long through a wide mouth, as it neared Levi's feet.

      "Hey," he softly greeted, reaching down to let it sniff his hand before scratching behind its ears.

      As Levi quickly became occupied by the cat who demanded attention from him, I caught a the sound of a familiar, higher-pitched voice from the other side of the lounge. I turned in my chair to look behind me, crossing one leg over the other.

      However, my eyes widened once they found where the voice came from.

      Nifa and Rico were sitting on two plush chairs, side-by-side with a cat in each of their laps. As soon as I noticed them, I jerked my head back around, facing Levi again and thankful to see that he was still distracted by the cat. Nifa and Rico hadn't seemed to notice we were here yet.

      Shit. It's fine. It's fine. It shouldn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything. Nifa and I weren't even friends.

      It wasn't like she's had a crush on me since middle school or anything. It wasn't like this was the first time people from school had seen me hanging out with another human being in years or anything.

       Right... Haha. Yeah.

      "I recognize those girls from school." Levi snapped me out of my thoughts, and I noticed him looking past me where I knew Nifa and Rico were sitting, the cat by his feet now gone. Fuck. Of course he recognizes them—the overly attentive person he is.

      I knew since he hadn't seen me look at them the first time, I had to play it off and look at them again. If I didn't, he would have been confused by any response I gave since I couldn't see them from where I sat.

      Fuck, why was I overthinking this so much?

      I pretended as if it was my first time looking back, turning slightly in my seat to glance behind me. Instantly, Nifa's hazel eyes locked with mine, growing wide as a deep red flush washed over her face.

      I quickly turned around, pretending I hadn't noticed, and shrugged. "Yeah, I think they're juniors or something," I said impassively. Levi raised an eyebrow, but he was still looking behind me. He must have caught Nifa's expression as well.

      "Why does the red-haired one look like she's gonna shit herself?" Levi muttered.

      I shrugged—it felt like the only thing I was capable of doing at the moment—hoping he wasn't expecting me to turn around again. "I don't know, juniors are weird," I said, occupying myself with my sandwich by taking a huge bite out of it.

      Levi hummed before busying himself with his pastry, attempting to figure out a way to eat it without getting it all over himself. He managed to succeed, for the most part, but when he put it back down on the plate and began chewing, I smirked at the smear of white frosting on the edge of his lips.

      "You got a little something," I teased, tapping the spot on myself. Levi raised an eyebrow before grabbing a napkin and dabbing at his lip. When he pulled it away and looked down at it to see the frosting, he smirked.

      "Bet that did something for you, huh?" he asked, and I raised my eyebrows with a small quirk of my lips.

      "Yeah? Right in the middle of the lounge? Someone's got balls," I said, but I tried not to let on how much that comment had riled me up. Fleeting memories of this morning floated through my brain, with them were images of his face covered in my cum instead, and he bit his lip on a small smile as he leaned back in his chair and grabbed his drink. I combed my hair back with my hand and rested my arm on the back of my chair, searching his expression.

      I could feel eyes burning into the back of my neck, and if I focused hard enough I could notice the sound of faint voices. I tried to shake them off with a small shrug of my shoulders. I didn't need to let whatever was going on behind me ruin the moment Levi and I were having.

      I need to be careful to not let them ruin the entire date in general.

      Levi and I ate mostly in silence, only broken by an occasional tease or mindless comment. Sometimes Levi was interrupted by more cats, which he happily indulged. None of them ever came up to me, but I wasn't expecting them to.

      Soon enough, however, Levi's expression narrowed. "What's her deal? She won't stop looking over here," He mumbled.

      I was this close to wincing before I caught myself. "Whose deal?" I played it off, looking down at my sandwich before taking it into my hand.

      "The girl over there from our school. Her and the girl accompanying her are whispering to each other and it's so obvious they're talking about us. What's their issue?"

      Oh. So that's how it was going to happen.

      "Do you know them?" Levi asked next, and that very next second I took to decide how I wanted to respond was the same second a fork in the road materialized in front of me. One path led to certain doom, and the other led to a safe haven. The only problem was, the paths were unmarked. I had no idea what the right choice was.

      So, I went with my gut. "No."

      Granted, trusting my gut in the past never really worked out for me. All I could hope was that it wouldn't bite me in the ass later. 

      Levi eyed me for a moment before shaking his head. Then he wiped his hands with his napkin, stood up from the chair, and stuck his hand out toward me. "I'm just going to ignore them, then. Come on, let's spend some time with the cats. That's why we're here, right?" He looked down at me expectantly. I blinked, looking between his eyes and his hand as if the Window's error screen replaced my brain.

      "Right," I said, grabbing his hand and standing up, leaving my half-eaten sandwich with the quarter of his pastry that was left. His drink was almost gone—damn, he drank fast—but I had only taken a few sips of mine.

      I instantly felt my hand break into a sweat while clasped within his, and he effortlessly guided us further into the lounge—thankfully, further away from Nifa and Rico, whose voices grew fainter. I swallowed as I looked at our intertwined fingers, the feeling thick in my throat and my heart hammering in my chest. We came upon five cats in the corner of the room near the large window that divided us from the café. Why was holding his hands making me more nervous than kissing him?

      Well, I guess I was high out of my mind when we kissed.

      How would kissing him sober feel?

      "Look." I was jerked out of my trance by Levi's voice, who gestured to two cats on the ground. They were roughhousing, rolling around tangled in each other's limbs and kicking each other's stomachs. One was all black while the other had brown and gray stripes with a few white spots. It's green eyes particularly stuck out.

      "It's us," I mused playfully, even though the black cat had hazel eyes. Levi looked up at me with a small, downturned smile, almost as if he hadn't been expecting me to say that.

      The black one finally pulled away and took off across the lounge, and the other one got to its feet and chased after it.

      "Oh my god," Levi said, quickly tugging my hand to gain my attention. I turned my head to see him nod at the large window that looked out to the street outside. The black kitten we had seen before coming in was still sitting on its cat tree, looking at us with large, yellow-green eyes. It was so tiny, it looked like it could fit in the palms of my hands. 

      A small smile lifted the edges of my lips. "I'm surprised they place cats that young here," I commented.

      Out of nowhere, the volunteer—I had already forgotten her name—spoke up behind us, nearly scaring the shit out of me. "That's Midnight. She's three months old, the youngest we allow; she was just the runt of her litter and her growth was a little stunted. She’s a sweetheart, just a bit shy," she explained. I nodded, turning to look at Levi, but he was captivated by the tiny kitten who stared back at him with round eyes.

      He slowly walked up to her—it was clear he had at least heard that she was shy—and the cat tilted her head as he inched his hand up. Midnight—at least she had an easy name to remember—didn't flinch away. The moment Levi was close enough, she pushed her small black head into his hand and rubbed against it.

      Levi turned back to me with wide, awe-struck eyes, and I smirked. I wouldn't admit this aloud, but watching him befriend a kitten was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. Bringing him here was mostly for his sake, but it was obvious I was getting something from this, too.

      Even as a cat randomly hissed at me as it passed me, despite not having moved an inch.

      Levi didn't notice, attention glued to the kitten, who weakly purred as she rubbed against him. He stepped closer to her, moving his hand to scratch behind her ears then run down her back. I watched with raised eyebrows as the kitten suddenly lifted her two front paws, stood on her back legs and reached forward. She placed her paws on Levi's chest, and Levi instinctively wrapped his hands around her as she climbed onto him.

      "Holy shit," he whispered, looking back at me with an expression that screamed, ‘are you seeing this right now?’

      The kitten quickly got comfortable in Levi's arms, hugging his chest with her tiny paws as his hands held her close. With a closed-mouthed grin, I pulled out my phone, opening the camera and snapping a photo of them.

      The volunteer appeared again, gaping at the position Levi was in. "She hasn't done that to anyone before. She rarely even lets people pick her up!" she exclaimed.

      "I think she chose you," I said, and Levi frowned at me—but it was more of an expression of desperate longing than anything else.

      "I might die if I can't take her home," he said dramatically, stroking her back with his thumb.

      "You guys are perfect for each other. She's small, just like you," I teased.

      Levi's fond look turned into a glare as he shot daggers at me. "Don't make me put her down so I can murder you," he said, though his threat felt vacant with a tiny kitten nestled the arms of his oversized sweater.

       "Eren, what if she gets adopted before I can even consider taking her home?" Levi sounded truly distraught, like this was a matter of life or death.

      "You could always tell your uncle you found her on the street and it was pouring rain," I said with a shrug. "Who can blame you for that?"

      He raised an eyebrow at me. "That was quick thinking," he said with an air of suspicion.

      "With parents like mine, you have to think quick," I explained, lifting a hand and tapping the side of my forehead.

      He tilted his head, looking down at Midnight. "Fair enough. But even if I did, I have a feeling that'd bite me in the ass sooner or later," he mumbled. Midnight was still holding onto him—her purr could be heard from where I stood. She had her tiny head nuzzled against his chest, and she opened her mouth to just barely nibble at his sweater.

      "But then you'd already have her. It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission," I replied.

      "And exactly how many times have you had to ask for forgiveness?" Levi asked with an amused expression, looking up at me again.

      I shrugged with a grin, tucking my hands into my pockets. "Let's just say I had a wild freshman year," I said, and Levi rolled his eyes.

      I didn't want to ruin Levi's moment, but I was itching to be closer to him. My track record with cats was probably the worst it could have been—save for death, of course, thank god—and something told me they knew that. Weren't cats supposed to be spiritual animals or something? 

      A moment later, I heard Nifa and Rico's voices again from across the lounge, and something told me keeping my distance was probably for the best.

      But why does it matter?

      It doesn't.

      But you're letting it.

      "Come over here." My dilemma was cut off by Levi's soft voice that left little room for denial.

      "But what if she gets scared and tries to leave? She looks so comfortable there," I tried.

      Levi shook his head. "She looks like she's about to fall asleep in my arms. Even if she does try to run, it's not like I can hold her forever, anyway" he explained. He was right, the kitten's eyes were barely open as she lulled her head against his chest. Why was that so fucking adorable?

       I felt eyes on the back of my neck, yet I did my best to ignore them. I cautiously walked over to him, taking small steps until I stopped just in front of him. Midnight shifted, which caused Levi to adjust his hands, but she didn't seem frightened by my presence. 

      "Try to pet her. She's so soft," he said. I hesitated. Cats constantly ran from me. The last time I pet one, it hadn't been by its own free will.

      Oh god, Levi would never speak to me again if he knew what I used to do to cats. Thank god he wasn’t the one who could read minds.

      Shaking the thought off, I carefully raised my hand. Using the back of my index finger, I stroked the fur on her neck. She flinched slightly, but otherwise remained still. My eyes just barely widened. Her fur felt like velvet under my skin—no, better than velvet, somehow. She was the softest thing I had ever touched—softer than my mom's fancy bamboo yarn shipped from Japan that she insisted my dad and I felt.

       "Isn't she so soft?" Levi asked, stroking her back with his thumb.

      "Yeah. It's unreal," I said. The sensation of petting not just a cat, but a kitten, this gently was so new to me. But it brought the slightest downturned curl to the corners of my lips. It was comforting.

      A few seconds later—a lot longer than I had expected Midnight to tolerate me—she began to squirm out of Levi's arms. He let her go without complaint, turning and letting her hop back onto her tree, where she immediately turned into a small black loaf.

      Levi’s expression was painfully content. It seemed like the cat fulfilled every sense of animal companionship he had needed, whether he was aware of it or not. He turned to me, pushing a lock of hair on his forehead to the side. I watched him steal a glance to our left, but I didn't turn my head to see where he was looking. A part of me already knew.

       "Thanks for taking me here," he said.

      "You gonna come here every weekend now?" I smirked, and he craned his head up at me with a smirk.

       "If I always have a sexy, mysterious guy paying for me, sure," he said smoothly, stepping closer and reaching out a hand to touch mine. He didn't quite hold it, he merely fiddled with the tips of my fingers, but the touch was warm and pleasant. I huffed a laugh through my nose as my smile widened, and I felt my heart beat quicker as he lifted himself up on his tip-toes. He planted a kiss on my jawline, and the skin where his lips pressed tingled even as he rested back on his feet. The sensation spread heat through my face and neck as I swallowed.

      For a second, everything around us had disappeared. But as quick as it went, we came crashing back to reality when a choked sob sounded across the lounge. My heart dropped, and we simultaneously turned our heads to see Nifa sprint to the lounge door and rip it open. A second later, she was gone, the orange tabby we had seen when we first came in skidding to a halt in front of it.

      Rico had trailed desperately behind her, calling her name, but soon held a futile hand out to the door that had been slammed in her face and came to a dejected stop. The volunteer's eyes were wide as she looked from Levi and me to Rico, before she stood up and casually walked through a back door.

      "I knew it," Levi growled, stepping away from me with a sigh and crossing his arms.

      My blood ran cold as he distanced himself, my heart dropping into my stomach. "Wh—"

      "How insensitive can you be?" I was cut off by Rico's voice, and I turned to see her nostrils flared and her fists clenched by her sides.

      We locked eyes as I grew stunned to speak, and I couldn't help myself from letting her anger and resentment wash over me. 

      "The biggest fucking asshole on the entire planet."

      "God, what does she see in him? Can't believe he's with this loser—"

      "Maybe this is my chance—no, shut up!"

      Her thoughts were overlapping chaotically, one quickly gaining power over the other as more flooded in. My blood boiled at what she had called Levi. I had to play it off.

      "What are you talking about?" I finally managed to say. There was still a chance at playing the oblivious card. I didn't have to ruin everything with Levi on top of this disaster with Nifa. There was still a chance at saving this.

      "Are you really that dense? I get it, Nifa's shy, but you have to be the biggest idiot on the planet if you didn't notice the way she’s looked at you. And you really have the heart to not give her the time of day all these years, sleeping with random girls, then suddenly being affectionate with someone who hasn't even been here for three weeks?"

      I clenched my fists, eyes growing hot with anger. How was I the bad guy here? What had I done wrong? It wasn't my fault Nifa never tried to pursue anything with me because she was too anxious.

      But would that have even changed anything?

      Before I could speak and say something I might regret, Levi stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you even know anything about him? How about you get off your high horse, stop acting so egotistical and go help your friend. Or is feigning superiority in the room more important to you?"

      I blinked down at him. I wasn't sure how I felt about him swinging in to defend me, but despite the bitter shame I was beginning to feel, a sense of pride and gratitude swelled in my chest. 

      Rico, on the other hand, was stunned with shock. Her jaw had grown slack as she stared at him wide-eyed, gawking as if she couldn't believe Levi would talk to her that way.

      Finally, she huffed. "W-Whatever. Your loss, Eren. You two probably won't last, but have fun experimenting with a twink." Those were her final words before she swung the lounge door open and stomped out.

      "Fuck you, bitch!" Levi called out just before she yanked it close behind her.

      My eyes were wide with searing-hot rage as a chair to my right crashed to the floor. Levi flinched, and a cat sprinted away from the impact. He relaxed when he realized it was probably the cat who had tipped it over.

      "What the fuck?" Levi whispered in exasperation, bringing a hand to his forehead. I was still staring ahead, processing the words she had shot about Levi. The wave of protection and anger that had washed over me upon her insult was familiar—I hadn't felt it in a long time. The emotion was so strong that my powers had been triggered. I had to get myself together.

      "Earth to Eren?"

      I blinked when I realized Levi was waving a hand in front of me, shaking my head. "Sorry—fuck. Are you okay?" I asked, turning to him.

      He held his arms to his chest, brows pinched together with a irked expression. "I'm fine. That wasn’t the first time someone's called me an experiment. I've heard worse, trust me," he said, but the admission only made me angrier.

      "You shouldn't have to deal with that," I said.

      He held a stiff hand up. "Believe me, that's the least of my concerns right now." Something about those words settled an uncomfortable pit in my stomach.

      "She also called you an idiot," he added, glowering up at me.

      I shrugged. "I've also been called worse," I said, but that didn't seem to ease his expression.

      "I'm sure, but you know what else I'm sure of? You're not an idiot, Eren. You're not dense," he said pointedly.

      "Thanks...?" I said it more as a question than anything else, because his words were not leaving him with the air of a compliment or the need to comfort me. They reeked with frustration.

      He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a presence a few feet away. We both snapped our heads over to the volunteer who had suddenly intruded, and she looked like she was seconds away from squeaking in fear. "Um... sorry to interrupt, but... your hour is up." She weakly pointed to the timer on the table beside the door.

      Levi blinked at her before scoffing, walking past me and grabbing his iced mocha from the table. He drank the little that was left of it before throwing it away in the trashcan near the door and picking up his plate. "Let's talk outside," he said, and my shoulders sagged as my gut flipped with apprehension. It made me want to throw up everything that was in my stomach.

      I grabbed my tea and sandwich—I had zero appetite now—and we quietly exited the lounge. After putting our shoes back on in the vestibule, we walked to the counter where the barista was sitting on a stool and asked for two boxes.

      We boxed up our leftovers and walked outside, Levi grabbing his umbrella on the way. The rain had stopped, but a thick gray overcast remained. There was a dry outdoor table bedside the window now, and we placed our boxes and my drink down onto it before facing each other. It was difficult to make eye-contact with him as he crossed his arms and looked up at me.

      "Be honest with me, Eren. Did you know she had a crush on you?" I knew it was coming, but the question still felt like a slap in the face from whatever shitty 'gut feeling' had told me to lie to him.

      But I couldn't seem to stop, even now. "No." The answer escaped me before I could allow myself to think of removing the shovel from the pit I was digging underneath my feet.

      He narrowed his eyes. "You're a shitty liar. I'm serious," he said stone-faced, his tone pressing and stern.

      I sighed, leaning back on my heels and looking up at the vast, cloudy sky. "Why does it even matter?" I said exhaustively. I clenched my eyes shut as his words seemed to sink their claws into my skull.

      You're a shitty liar.

      Levi caught me off guard by reaching up and placing a hand on the back of my head, pushing it down so our eyes met, making sure I gave him the attention he demanded.

      "That's the thing, it doesn't matter. Not to me." He dropped his hand back to his side. "I don't give a shit if someone has a crush on you or not—if you haven't noticed, you're not what one might call an eyesore. It's obvious that you don't reciprocate her feelings," he said through a frown.

      I glanced to the side and back to him, confusion twisting my expression. "Then... why are we even talking about this?" I asked, pushing my hands into my pockets. If he didn't care about her feelings, why was he so upset?

      He almost growled as he clawed his hands in the air in front of him, strangling something nonexistent. "Because it's the fact that you kept it from me and pretended like you had no idea who she was. That's what I care about. I don't do the secrecy shit, Eren. I've been down that road before. It leads absolutely nowhere." He sliced his hand through the air to accentuate his words, glaring up at me. I despised when he looked at me like that. Where was the fondness from only minutes ago? It was like he hated me now.

      The thought made my throat swell and my chest compress.

      I swallowed. It was as if a fifty pound weight encased in ice had dropped onto my heart, plummeting the temperature of my bloodstream and sucking away the moisture from my hands. "Okay, I get it. I shouldn't have lied," I forced out, but I had to prevent my eyes from glazing over and dissociating as I blinked at him.

      I don't do the secrecy shit, Eren.

      His tightly drew his thin eyebrows together. He appeared to be scrutinizing me where I stood, and I had never felt smaller.

      All of my instincts told me to run away from the threat posed to me. It took everything in my power to remain rooted to the ground.

      And then, he sighed, tearing through the deafening silence. "Tell me something—are you taking whatever is going on between us seriously? Or is this just some fun you want to have for a few months? I don't care what the answer is. Just be honest with me, and we'll go from there."

      I had never been plummeted back to reality as harshly as I had just then, blinking rapidly as I soaked in his words like a sponge.

      This was it, wasn't it? The deciding factor that changed the course Levi and I were currently swerving on.

      I almost smirked, but a small breath escaped my nose instead as I raised an eyebrow. "Who's lying now?"

      He appeared mildly taken aback as confusion wrote over him. "What?" he asked.

      I tilted my head, pushing my hands into my pockets. "You really don't care what the answer is?" I asked doubtfully.

      He was tense, but it was as if the turning gears in his brain as he searched my expression gradually loosened his shoulders until he relaxed. "Look... I'm not going to lie to you, Eren, I've had flings before. I can't count how much futile time I've spent with guys—went down roads that quickly slammed into a dead-end. I was trying to avoid that after moving here, but at this point, we're in our senior year. With college potentially being right around the corner, is commitment a risk you're even willing to take?"

      I stared down at him, my expression blank, and trying to avoid the jealous pang in my chest that erupted at the mention of other guys.

      He was right; college was right around the corner. For him, at least. That was always the case, wasn't it?

      Everything comes to an end.

      Yet, why was I physically unable to utter the words? Why was I incapable of accepting the fact that letting this simply be a fling was the better decision?

      It hadn't even been that long. I wanted to push him away in the first place. This was exactly what I had wanted to avoid. So why couldn't I let him go now? Fuck.

      I don't do the secrecy shit, Eren.

      It was wrong. This wasn't fair to him. There were so many secrets. Huge, world-changing secrets he couldn't ever know about. Yet, still...

      "Take a gap year with me."

      He didn't appear shocked by my response. At least, he didn't let it show on his expression. He searched my eyes. The willingness to read his mind wasn't there, and I hadn't realized it until I saw the way they shone beneath the cloudy light, hanging onto my words.

      "Take a gap year like you had been considering. We'll figure it out from there. Okay?" I continued, hoping the message was getting across without me having to say it outright.

      Don't leave.

      "Okay," he replied. What happened next caused the frozen weight on my heart to burst into a roaring ball of flame, searing the veins under my skin and rolling my blood to a boil. He reached up, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, pulled me down, and pressed his soft lips against mine. Right in front of the café, in the middle of the open, public sidewalk of downtown.

      How would kissing him sober feel?

      Now I knew. And as I closed my arms around his waist and pulled him closer, I had to admit, I never wanted the feeling to end.

      Even if being a shitty liar took it all away one day.

Chapter Text

You’re Not Fifteen Anymore

༄༄࿐

       When Nifa and Rico had seen me with Levi at the cat café, I had assumed that event was going to die and rot there. Nifa had been embarrassed enough, and Levi had shut Rico's lips so tightly it was as if he had physically thrown a piece of duct tape over her mouth. I figured they didn't want that disastrous event being shared with the rest of the school.

      But of course, life has a silly way of shoving my face into a pile of shit with a dirty boot and saying "fuck you."

      Which was how I found out that somehow, everyone in Sina High had found out about Levi and I come Monday morning.

      Now, I didn't actually care. It wasn't like I had planned on keeping Levi and I a secret. Quite the contrary, I wanted people to know he was mine, especially since we had only two periods together. I wanted the school to know that I had staked claim on the cute, sexy new student, and no one else had the chance to.

      However, that didn't stop people from being complete assholes about it.

      "Who would have guessed the loner liked dick," someone said as I passed their locker. Snickers followed, and I rolled my eyes so hard they might have been close to popping out of my skull. When I glanced at a group of guys on the basketball team, one of them held their hand up to their lips. The tips of his fingers and thumb touched to make the shape of a circle, and he thrusted it up to his opened mouth while poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

      "Wow, it's almost like you have practice," I said with a mockingly surprised tone, and his amused expression dropped into a shocked glare while the rest of them oohed.

      Come on, that was just too easy.

      There was no Jean to mock me despite his own fruity thoughts he kept to himself, as he had been absent from school ever since Thursday of last week. The plan of potentially befriending him—or pathetically attempting to, at least—carried little hope if he wouldn't even show his face. 

      Frankly, people being open about what they thought of me was better than harboring it on the inside only for me to eventually find out by reading their minds anyway. People could shout whatever they wanted to about me, it wasn't like it came as a surprise. This wasn't LA where stuff like homosexuality was around every corner. It was still the butt of the joke even if the city attempted to paint a rainbow on State Street every June. Now, did I ever once think it was something I was going to have to deal with one day? Not quite, but it was a lot easier to brush off than some people made it out to be.

      Granted, I didn't often care what people thought of me, anyway.

      However, when I overheard a deeper voice talking about how 'good of a fuck the twink must be,' I saw red. People could say shit about me all they wanted, but when they brought Levi into it, that was a different story. 

      I jerked my head to look at the person who had said it, a stocky, broad-shouldered kid, and noticed that he was just about to close his locker. His fingers were still curled around the edge of the door, and before he could pull them away, I Telekinetically slammed it shut. His fingers were smashed between the metal, and he yelled at the top of his lungs before yanking his hand away. It drew attention from every student in the hall—which fell into an awkward silence—as well as a teacher, Mrs. Braun, Reiner's aunt, who was just about to enter her classroom.

      "Excuse me? Yell like that again and you'll be spending the rest of the day in Principal Pixis' office," she said sternly. The boy whimpered with his fingers clenched in his other hand, his friend frantically asking if he was okay and why he would slam his locker onto his fingers. Satisfied by his pain, I smirked as I strode to my locker.

      I glanced down at my phone after grabbing my math book, seeing that there were a few minutes before first period was supposed to start. Yesterday night I had set my lock-screen as the first picture of Levi I had taken, the candid one he had told me to delete, and set my home-screen as the photo of him and Midnight, the kitten. Opening and unlocking my phone was almost like telling a story.

      I huffed through my nose in amusement when I realized that was something Levi would probably say. He didn't know I had made him my home and lock screen yet, but I was hoping he wouldn't be put off by it.

      Looking at his face on my phone and him cuddling with Midnight immediately inflated my mood, and I quickly shut my locker to rush to class.

      Seeing Levi already sitting down at his seat was like a breath of fresh air, but based on his pinched expression, he didn't seem to be having the time of his life, either. Mr. Hannes wasn't in the classroom yet, so I made a beeline for him at the back of the class.

      "Are you getting shit, too?" I asked, hopping onto his desk with my legs slung over one side.

      He held the edges as it shook under my weight, looking up at me in surprise. "Jesus, Eren, you're going to break this thing," he said.

      "I'm not going to apologize for my cake," I said, and he rolled his eyes. Though I tugged a small smile at the corners of his lips, and my heart surged with pride.

      "I haven't had that many issues—I mean, look at me, I doubt anyone is surprised I'm gay—but I don't care either way. I'm honestly just annoyed by those skanks who spread it so fast. How do you get news around an entire school this big in one weekend?" he said, exasperated.

      "Sina might not be as small as Mitras, but word still gets around. One text chain and everyone's talking about something," I explained before pursing my lips, remembering the last time I had faced the wrath of Sina High gossip. "I'm honestly surprised people care so much. If you haven't noticed, I'm not too popular," I said. 

      Levi sighed. "You're more popular than you think—popularity is not always on par with being surrounded by people. It's fine, at least winter break is right around the corner. People will stop caring soon enough," he explained with a wave of his hand. He was acting so nonchalant about it, it was as if he'd been through this exact thing before.

      "Have experience with rumors?" I asked, trying to sound innocent despite the fact that my curiosity had been piqued. If we were going to be together, it was only fair that I knew more about his history in Mitras, right? Something told me there was a lot to unpack.

      He leaned back in his seat, tucking his arms over his chest. "If you think this school is small, you wouldn't be able to fathom how rapidly rumors spread where I'm from. Nothing ever happened, so people clung to any sort of excitement they could." His eyes narrowed as he looked away, expression falling as if bad memories had begun creeping up on him. I didn't mean to make him feel shitty, but I guess it served me right for prying. It seemed like I was finding out we had more and more similar experiences by the day.

      I slid off his desk and onto my feet, planting my palm over the wooden surface and leaning down in front of him. He looked up at me with a blank expression. "Fuck these people. It's just you and me, yeah?" I said, attempting an encouraging smile.

      It took a moment, but soon he gave me a downturned smile before grabbing the collar of my sweater. My eyes widened for a split second as he pulled me down and pressed my lips against his, but I relaxed against him immediately, propping myself up with my other hand on the back of his hair. My heart surged as if a cannonball had released in my chest, sending an explosion of passion throughout my entire body.

      Someone hollered from across the room, and that was when Mr. Hannes walked in. "Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants. Everyone to their seats," he announced. I pulled away from him with a cheesy grin, and he winked at me before letting me go. I felt like I was floating to my seat, not even paying attention to the curious pairs of eyes that were trained on me.

༄༄࿐

      I hadn't felt the urge to follow Levi to his locker between periods before, but for some reason, the need to remain by his side was stronger than ever. Whether it was because we had taken the next step in our relationship or that everyone in the school was talking about it, I wasn't sure.

      "Aren't you going to be late to second period? Our lockers are too far apart," Levi said as he pulled his history from his locker.

      I leaned against the one beside his, my backpack slung over my shoulder as I watched him. "I have time. Plus, Ms. Ceelio won't mind if I'm a minute late. She's surprised if I even show up," I said, and Levi rolled his eyes.

      I wrapped my hand around his waist as he shut his locker, and he held his book to his chest, craning his head up to look at me. My hair was pulled back into a bun, meaning there were no strands shadowing my eyes. I could take in the entirety of his gorgeous, ivory features. Today he wore a large chestnut brown cardigan which sleeves were too big for his arms. Beneath it was a black knitted sweater that went down to the middle of his thighs, paired with black jeans and brown boots. He looked like he would go buy a pumpkin spiced latte any minute now.

      As I searched his face, it looked like there was a tinge of brightness to his nose and cheeks, and his eyelashes looked fuller. "Are you wearing makeup?" I asked.

      The corners of his lips twitched. "Finally, you noticed. Sometimes I like to put a little bit on depending on how I'm feeling," he explained.

      I smiled. "It's cute."

      I was expecting him to be flattered, but he grimaced instead. "Unfavorable choice of words," he said with a scrunched expression, and I chuckled before pulling him closer by his midsection and leaning down.

      "Would you rather I call you sexy?" I said before leaning down to kiss him. Molding my lips with his was like lighting a firework in my chest every time. My heart beat wildly in my chest, rushing heat and excitement through my veins. He was like a drug, one I was already getting addicted to.

      "Mmm, maybe," he said when we pulled away by an inch before kissing me again. A group of guys made loud smooching noises as they passed, and I pulled away from him with a smile. It was hard to believe that almost three weeks ago I thought I despised him. Now I couldn't get enough of his touch.

      Levi glanced behind me before rolling his eyes. I turned my head just enough to see Nifa surrounded by her group of girl friends, hurriedly wiping at her face as her shoulders shook. "God, she's so dramatic," Levi muttered. "Of course she would make a scene."

      Levi was under the impression that her and Rico had purposefully spread the news about Levi and I being together, and I couldn't blame him for being frustrated. He had no intention of keeping us a secret, either, but both of us would have much rather eased into it. I had little chance of reading either of the girls' minds to search for any malicious intent, since they were clearly doing everything they could to stay away from me.

      I was about to kiss away his frown, but we were interrupted by a sudden figure that grew much too close for comfort. "Levi," a voice said. Behind Levi was that one kid—Farlay, Farlan—something like that, who had passed me in the hall last week on my way to the office. Why the hell was he here?

      Levi turned his back to me, facing Farlo with his book still held to his chest—he looked adorable. I lifted my arm against the locker and rested my fist above his head. He looked almost caged in by my body as I stood behind him, and that was exactly how I wanted it.

      "Hey, Farlan." Okay, so it was Farlan. Wait—they were on mutual first-name-basis? I barely remembered his name and we had been going to the same school for almost four years. I drew my eyebrows together. Just how many classes did they share? Maybe it was as many as Levi and I didn't. The thought made my stomach curl uncomfortably.

      Farlan glanced up at me weirdly, like he wasn't sure why I was there, but he didn't meet my eyes. It was odd. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he looked back down at Levi. "Here are the notes back that you let me borrow. Thanks for saving my ass," he said, handing Levi a neat-looking notebook I hadn't realized he was carrying until now. There was a noticeable weight settling on my gut. They were on friendly-enough terms to share notes, too?

      Levi grabbed it from him, his touch not lingering for any longer than necessary. "You're welcome. Let me know if you need Mrs. Harris' class, too," he said.

      Farlan nodded. "Will do. See you," he said, glancing at me once more before passing us and continuing down the hall.

      "Making more friends?" I forced out, trying to not let my jealousy seep through my tone.

      Levi adjusted the notebook and his history book in his arms. "More like attempting to get by without being a total loser," he said, his tone obviously meant to poke at me.

      But I didn't smile. "I don't like him," I muttered.

      Levi turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Farlan? After the four barely complete sentences he said to me?"

      I pulled him close again, huffing. "It's the way he looks at me. Like I'm some anomaly over your shoulder," I said through a frown.

      He smirked. "You are an anomaly over my shoulder. Now go to your locker, anomaly, class is going to start any minute," he said, pushing two fingers against my chest. It looked like two pins against a wall. But instead of leaving, I leaned down and pushed my lips against his, sliding my hand up his lean back. He couldn't help but kiss me back despite his previous urging, but soon he ripped himself away with an amused, yet dazed expression. "Go," he insisted, and I grinned before turning and jogging down the hall.

༄༄࿐

      If I thought getting through class with my usual lack of focus was difficult, it was nearly impossible with Levi constantly on my mind. I didn't realize how excruciating being apart from him would be. How was I supposed to survive five whole periods without him? The two classes we did have together were so far apart, too—first and last of the day. Ms. Ceelio told me to step outside twice because I physically could not sit still. I was thankful for the breaks that I spent pacing in the hall to get my nerves out—she was one of the few teachers who understood how debilitating ADHD could be—but it didn't eradicate the longing I was still suffering from.

      After that interaction with Farlan, said longing was suffocated by a weight of nauseating discomfort. I knew I was being slightly irrational—it was understandable for two people who shared classes to know each other's names and share notes.

      So why was it fucking bothering me so much?

      The end of class couldn't have arrived sooner, and I practically sprinted through the door and in the direction of Levi's locker. Thankfully, it was closer to Ms. Ceelio's classroom, and I didn't have to run halfway across the school.

      I saw Levi just ahead, pulling open his locker as students bustled through the hall to get to their next period. For me, it was lunch, so I had plenty of time to spend with him without worrying about being late.

      The last thing I was expecting when I neared him was for a student to spit "faggot" as he passed by before pushing at the back of Levi’s head. I watched Levi nearly slam into his locker before he braced himself on the metal just in time, and it was the last thing I saw before a ball of rage burst behind my eyes, blacking out everything else.

      The next thing I knew, I was rushing toward the fucker with my fist raised, and socked him right in the face. 

༄༄࿐

      My head was lulled back as I stared at the ceiling, the humming of the office's old lights deafening in the dusty room. I was slouched in the uncomfortable plastic chair that was too small for my body, my arms slung over my lap, and my hands hung between my legs.

      Levi was pacing in front of me, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the ground. He had been doing that ever since he followed me here five minutes ago. Neither of us have said anything to each other yet. 

      Finally, he broke the silence, but it wasn't with words appreciative of a heroic act.

      "If you react like this every time someone insults me, we are going to have a lot of problems."

      "What did you expect me to do? I showed up and some dude called you a fucking slur before almost slamming your face into your locker," I said frustratedly, as if Levi hadn't experienced it himself and needed a reminder. I could clearly picture the blood that begun dripping onto the hallway floor, the kid I had punched to the ground desperately clutching his nose right before being rushed to the nurse's office as I was yelled at by Ms. Ceelio.

      "I want you to do nothing, Eren. I can handle myself. What do you think I had to go through in Mitras? Do you think it was all sunshine and rainbows? I was the token gay kid, I had to grow a backbone. You don't need to be a white knight," he said pointedly, pausing his pacing to turn to me.

      "I'm sorry, but doing nothing literally isn't an option for me," I said, and Levi sighed. He walked over and sat down beside me. We were waiting for the principal to get back from lunch, so it was just the two of us in his stuffy office.

      "What's gonna happen if you get suspended or even expelled in your last year? Do you think I want to graduate without my brand-new fist-driven boyfriend?" He said. His voice had grown less frustrated and more concerned. My heart did somersaults at the word boyfriend. It was the first time it had been said out loud. Sunday was spent testing the waters, adjusting to our newfound dynamic we had mostly disclosed on Saturday. But I didn't know how hearing the term for the first time would feel.

      It swelled my chest with relief and joy. The concern and worry he felt upon the idea of being without me at graduation suddenly shoved my ego aside.

      "I know. I shouldn't have gone that far." I grabbed his hand as my knee bounced, intertwining my fingers with his. He slid his other hand over my thigh, pressing down and bringing my leg to a stop.

      "It's okay. Just remember, actions have consequences. This isn't a rom-com where anything goes," he said.

      I sighed. "Wouldn't that be nice," I muttered.

      Levi spoke again after a few seconds of silence. "Are you okay? Besides, you know, feeling absolutely heartbroken over the sake of my safety," he asked, leaning forward and examining my face.

      I shut my eyes, pursing my lips. I didn't want to unload my worries onto him when he was already on edge, but the urge to let my thoughts burst out of me was practically clawing through my skin.

      One look at his face cracked open a dam for them to flood out. "I'm worried about my parents finding out. Principal Pixis calls them when shit like this happens, and it always causes fights. We've been doing good this last week, so I just... didn't want to go back to square one," I admitted with a heavy heart. I was supposed to go to my dad’s clinic after school. Would that still even happen once they found out what I did? I wasn't wholly against not going, but that would mean... being at the house with my mom. Alone. God, I don't even want to imagine what her reaction to today will be.

      Levi rubbed my thigh with his hand in a soothing gesture. "If they find out why you did it, would they still hold it against you?" he asked.

      I twisted my lips to the side, considering it before nodding my head. "My mom isn't necessarily homophobic, but she's also the 'do nothing' type, and for the wrong reasons. A punch is a punch, no matter the reason for it. That's all she'll see," I explained.

      Levi sighed. "Well, you'll cross that bridge when you come to it. For now, we just need to make sure you don't get into any more trouble than necessary with the principal." He seemed anxious to know what the outcome of this event would be.

      "I'm coming with you," Levi frantically told me as I turned to stalk to the office under the stern, watchful gaze of Ms. Ceelio.

      "Why?" I asked.

      He grabbed my wrist. "Because I'm a witness to you defending me. There's no way I'm letting this all fall on you," he said.

      He was so insistent on being able to stick up for me. No one has ever gone that far to make sure I didn’t take the fall.

       A minute later, Principal Pixis opened the door. He sighed, not bothering to look at us as he entered the room. "With the amount of times you've cut my lunch short, Eren, I might have to start asking for compensation," he said as he rounded his desk with his hands folded behind his back.

      He sat down with a quiet groan. Dot Pixis had been the school's principal for the last fifteen years. He had seen hundreds upon hundreds of students come and go.

      "I've already called your father, and he's on his way now," he said.

      I blinked in confusion. "My dad?" I asked. Usually my mom was the first to know about these kinds of events because my dad was at the clinic.

      "That's what I said. Now, what are you doing here, son? Were you involved in this mess, too?" he asked, turning his head to look at Levi as he folded his hands over his desk.

      Levi nodded. "I'm the reason he punched someone," he admitted, and Pixis raised a thin, gray eyebrow, accentuating the wrinkles on his forehead.

      "Explain to me what happened, then. I will also be getting Mark's side of the story, as soon as his nose has stopped bleeding." Principal Pixis gave me a knowing stare, and I sagged back in my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

      I frustratedly told him my side of the story, what I heard upon approaching Levi and the sight I had to bear witness to right before punching Mark. When I was finished, Levi calmly told it from his perspective. I wasn't sure how he could remain so composed after being violated like that.

      The old man nodded and remained silent, processing our stories until Levi drew silent. "And you are absolutely positive that was the word he called you?" Pixis asked Levi.

      "I've heard it enough times to know what it sounds like," Levi bit back, causing my heart to sink.

      I quickly cut in. "I heard it all the way from where I was in the hall." Pixis raised his eyebrow again before sighing. "I swear, the shove to his head was hard enough to cause a mild concussion if Levi hadn't reacted in time to stop himself," I continued in a frustrated tone.

      Principal Pixis raised his hand. "Settle down," he said in a firm, elderly tone. I sighed, slouching in my seat with a frown. When we locked eyes again, I was too anxious to know what he was thinking to hold myself back.

      "He's one suspension away from flunking senior year. The kid has always been trouble, but I would hate to see him fail when he's come this far already."

      "Levi might be just what he needs to get back on track. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Eren’s always been far too protective for his own good—"

      "To me, this sounds like Eren got a little too protective. There are better ways to handle conflict than with a fist, son," Pixis continued, looking down at his desk. "Informing myself or a teacher of what occurred today would have immediately warranted an investigation, and with both of you as witnesses, the perpetrator would have been deemed guilty without any consequences on your part," he told me as if I was a toddler who needed to be lectured.

      "What are his consequences?" Levi was quick to ask. It almost felt like he was my parent, making sure I didn't get into too much trouble, trying to save me from losing my chance at graduating. I looked away at the wall, attempting to ignore the embarrassment I felt—especially after what Principal Pixis had thought.

      He hummed, tapping his desk with his wrinkled index finger. He pursed his lips behind his thick gray mustache before leaning back in his seat. "You've been through enough trouble this year, Eren. I do not want to have to see you in this office again for the rest of it. I want to see you up on stage, with a cap and gown like the rest of your classmates," he began, failing to give either of us a verbal answer. I already knew that he wasn't going to suspend me based on his thoughts, but that could change, so I played it off.

      "I know, I know. I'll be good," I said like a child, and Levi smacked me in the arm.

      "With that being said..." Pixis sternly began. "I can't with a healthy conscious condemn someone for coming to the defense of another. You will be sent home only today and you'll have lunch detention for two weeks, but no further punishment seems warranted," he said, and Levi sighed with relief. Lunch detention was like how I already had lunch, alone, just in a different room.

      "Thanks, sir," I mumbled, feeling dejected despite not having to break it to my parents that I was suspended again. There was still the matter of dealing with their reaction to what I had done.

      "Now, get to class, Levi," Pixis said. Levi stood up without complaint. He placed a hand on my shoulder, looking down at me with an encouraging gaze before exiting the room.

      "I'm happy to see you making friends again," Principal Pixis said once it was just the two of us. I drew my eyebrows together. "Just don't let it get in the way of your diploma, son. You've made it this far," he added.

      I nodded stiffly. "Yeah," I mumbled. He was aware I had barely scraped by each year.

      Principal Pixis sighed, looking at me with a wise, pointed expression. "I know you have a fire in that heart of yours and the need to protect others, but keep those fists under control. You are not fifteen anymore. One wrong move and someone could press charges. If that happens you’ll be sent to, not juvie, but jail. Levi is not Armin. Repeating history has never been a wise choice."

      I swallowed, glaring down at the desk between us. All I could do was nod stiffly, not trusting myself to speak without the air of regret and anger on my tongue.

      A moment later, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," Principal Pixis called. I turned my head to see my dad walk through the door. He was wearing his doctor's coat over a black button-up, expression pinched with concern as he quietly shut it behind him. He sighed before walking up to my chair.

      "Good morning, Dr. Jaeger. I trust the clinic is going well," Pixis began.

      "It is, thank you, Dot. What's the damage this time?"

      "Eren here has found himself a little in over his head," Pixis began. He explained what happened using our combined stories, and I looked up to find my dad’s expression mostly blank. I wasn't sure what that meant—usually it was my mom's buried rage threatening to boil to the surface that I had to face.

      "I see. You have my gratitude for not suspending him," my dad said with a strangely calm tone. His oddly tempered reaction to me literally punching a kid in the face was unwarranted, and a little off-putting.

      Pixis waved an age-spotted hand. "Ah, kids will eventually find themselves into all kinds of trouble when they enter the adult world. Eren knows he took it too far." Pixis slightly raised his eyebrows at me, and I nodded with pursed lips.

      We wrapped up the meeting as Principal Pixis stated he had other matters to attend to, and I grabbed my backpack from the floor behind my chair as I stood up, slinging it over my shoulder. I followed my dad out of the room, through the main office—the nurse's door was left ajar, and I tried to ignore the sight of the dick-bag getting patched up in my peripheral, before we entered the hallway.

      I dragged my feet behind me as we headed for the direction of the school doors. Neither of us said anything yet, the silence tense and heavy as we made our way through the gate and to my dad's car.

      When we slid inside, that was when I finally broke the silence. "Mom's gonna freak," I said dejectedly, placing my head in my hands. In the past, things with her have been so bad that I felt like there was nothing I could have done to make it worse. No amount of acting out could have made our relationship any more strenuous. But recently, we had been doing better. I wasn’t used to the gut-clenching anxiety of facing the future, of the chance that I ruined everything, that I felt now. I almost wished my mom and I were in a terrible place again so I didn't have to feel this way.

       "Not if we don't tell her." I jerked my head up from my hands to look at my dad quizzically.

      "Umm... what?" I blinked, utterly shocked, wondering if I had even heard the right words leave his mouth.

      My dad sighed. "Your mother doesn't need that kind of stress right now. For all she knows, I'm picking you up from school early because it was the only chance I had at taking you to the clinic. She won't have anything to freak out about if she doesn't know, right?"

      My heart was thumping in my chest. "Riiight..." I said, drawing the word out with disbelief, as if my brain was still trying to process what he was telling me.

      "Good," my dad said matter-of-factly, nodding his head once as he stared ahead, like he needed to convince himself that was the right thing to do. He soon pushed the key into the ignition before rumbling the car to a start, sighing and placing his hands on the wheel.

      I was silent as he started driving. I couldn't believe he wasn't going to tell mom. Once again, my dad completely turned me upside down by doing the unexpected. Principal Pixis calling him instead was also strange—he normally always tried reaching my mom first, since most of the time she was available. Had my dad set that up himself?

      I guess he was right about Mom not needing the stress—I was positive she had popped thousands of blood vessels due to our fights, but I just wasn't expecting him to be the mitigator.

      We drove mostly in awkward silence as he took the vaguely familiar route to the clinic. If I remembered correctly, it was about a twenty minute drive—just on the outskirts of the city. I wasn't sure how much had changed since I'd last been there a few years ago, but I wasn't expecting it to be the exact same place. At least, I was hoping it wouldn't be.

      My dad and I were rarely in the car together alone. It was usually my mom and I, or all three of us. And ever since the fight where he had grabbed me and thrown me out of my room, I had been sporadically imagining my dad snapping and going off the rails. They were fleeting scenes solely based off paranoia, but because I knew he was capable of it, I knew there was some truth behind them.

      The tension between us was almost suffocating, and I hurriedly distracted myself with my phone and earbuds, playing my Freddie Dredd-centric playlist. 

      A few seconds into the third song, Limbo, a muffled voice cut through the heavy bass vibrating in my ears. I knew it was my dad talking, and I was close to simply pretending I hadn't heard him. But I almost felt bad for him. He was trying, obviously, so the least I could do was indulge him.

      I removed my left earbud and turned down the volume. "What?" I asked.

      He glanced at me before repeating whatever he had said. "Thank you for agreeing to come to the clinic with me today." he paused. "I'm excited to show you that it isn't what you deemed it to be when you were fifteen."

      I pursed my lips, gazing through the window as we passed by small rural homes. "Yeah, sure," I said simply.

      I immediately began overthinking as the silence between us struggled once more. Was he only trying to get along with me so that I would still come to his clinic with him? Did he even care about our relationship, or was this all an elaborate ploy to get on my good side?

      The air in the car was tense. Freddie Dredd was quietly playing in my right ear as I glanced down at my phone.

      "I hope you don't still think I'm some monster who tests on people," he added, instantly plummeting the mood.

      I leaned my head back against the headrest, lifting my hand to my forehead. "No—I don't think you're a monster dad, come on," I said exasperatedly, but I felt a pang in my chest.

      He held a hand up. "No, I know how it all looked back then. My interest in helping you was expressed in the wrong way," he admitted, and my eyebrows drew together.

      "Yeah, it—it didn't really look like you were doing it for me, dad," I said stiffly, turning my pinched expression toward the window. Being vulnerable all of the sudden made me want to jump out of the car and onto the highway.

      He sighed; I only just barely heard it over the music in my right ear. "Just know that I had no ill intent."

      "Okay. Can we not talk about it?" I said quickly, hoping I sounded stern enough to express my distaste for the conversation. Silence followed, and I assumed that was as close to a response I was going to get. Frankly, that was all I wanted.

      He seemed to catch me lifting a hand to put my earbud back on, because before I could, he turned his head to glance at me, then spoke up again. "How was school?"

      Oh. So that's what we were doing.

      "Uh, I mean, you kind of already know how it went," I said with a small, awkward laugh that was closer to air escaping my lungs. You know, I just punched someone and was sent home, that's all.

      He shook his head before pushing up his round glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Right, of course. I meant more so how has it been going?" Sure, dad, that's what you meant.

      "Fine, I guess." I definitely didn't wanna talk to my dad about how I broke some girl's heart and started dating my only new friend after almost three weeks of knowing him.

      "That's good," he simply replied. Oh god, this is horrendous.

      I unlocked my phone and swiped to the left get to my social media apps. I caught my dad glancing at my lap in my peripheral. I quickly opened Instagram, hoping he hadn't seen Levi on my home-screen.

      I was about to put my earbud back in before he spoke up again. "So, the incident at school today," he began.

      Oh god. I lulled my head over to face him with a raised eyebrow, blinking slowly.

      "Yeaah...?" I drawled, not sure where he was planning on going with this.

      He was silent for a moment, as if mulling over what he wanted to say. "Levi. Did the kid you punched have a reason for calling him that word?" 

      I blinked quicker this time, glancing through the windshield and the row of trees passing by before back at my dad. "Did he.. Did he need a reason?" I asked quizzically. What the hell was he insinuating?

      He quickly shook his head. "Of course not, that's not what I meant," he clarified.

      "Are you trying to ask if he's gay?" I asked flatly.

      He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well—I mean, your mother had mentioned you two getting along well, and I thought she was just reading too much into things—as she does sometimes."

      I think I know where he's going with this, and this time, I really wanted to jump out of the car. Being run over sounded one-hundred-times more pleasant than whatever the fuck was going on right now.

      "Does it really matter?" I asked, seconds away from just shoving my earbud back in my ear and pretending this conversation never happened.

      My dad stared ahead at the road, momentarily silent, before shaking his head. "No. I'm merely curious, that's all. We haven't caught up very much lately. Just know if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm a listening ear."

      I practically grimaced. My mouth twisted into a weird, half grossed out, half confused frown that I tried to hide as I shifted my feet. "Thanks," I mumbled. I wanted to do anything but keep talking about this. Why was he suddenly trying to be involved in what was going on in my life?

      I didn't bother trying to put my earbud back after silence settled. It seemed like he was doing everything he could to have the chance to talk to me.

      I reached up with the hand that wasn't fidgeting with my earbud and tugged at my hair-tie. With a bit of effort I pulled it off my hair, sighing with relief as it was finally set loose. I pulled the hair-tie onto my wrist before running my fingers through my scalp and combing my hand through my hair, tugging through any knots that had formed throughout the day. I caught my dad looking at me in my peripheral, and glanced at him just as he faced ahead again.

      "You know, you always remind me of myself when your hair is down. Everyone always says you look like your mother. And that's true, but I definitely see some of myself in you, too."

      Wow, he really was trying. Because what kind of transition was that? It was like he was throwing darts at a wall and waiting to see what would stick.

      I grabbed the end of a lock that framed my face, the end slightly wavy due to the bun it had been in. I twiddled the strands between my fingers, shrugging. I may as well indulge him again. "Yeah, I can see that. I'm pretty sure mom was horrified when I told her I wanted to grow my hair out like yours," I said to him. My mom had always cut my hair herself when I was younger, since she couldn't take me to get it done professionally early on out of fear my powers would act out. I was thirteen when I had put my foot down and told her I didn't want to cut it anymore. Ever since, it kind of just stuck.

      "She's never been a big fan of it. You definitely ease her mind by wearing it up. I never could," he said with an amused shake of his head.

      I huffed a small laugh through my nose. "Yeah. I wouldn't be surprised if she thought she lived with two cavemen," I said, shutting off my phone.

      He chuckled, his shoulders shaking with the movement. "You know, I'm pretty sure she might have called me that when we first started dating. She even tried to get me to cut it," he said.

     I raised an eyebrow with a slightly downturned smile. "Seriously? And did you?" I asked.

      He shook his head again. "Nope. She stopped asking after the third attempt," he said with a sly grin.

      I huffed. "I'm surprised she didn't try to force me when I told her I didn't want to cut it anymore," I said.

      He let out a short laugh. "Honestly, so am I. "Would you ever cut it short again?" he asked.

      I shrugged. "Who knows. Might not be the best look when I'm like, sixty, but maybe I'll go for some kind of hippie vibe," I said, smirking.

      He chuckled again. "That would be a look, for sure. And hey, I'm not sixty yet, but it's worked for me so far."

      I looked down at my earbud in my hand, a confused sense of relief washing over me. If his goal was to have an actual conversation that didn't make me uncomfortable, he had finally succeeded on his third attempt. We hadn't had an easy-going, one-on-one conversation in what felt like ages. I barely remembered that he even had a sense of humor.

      The corner of my lips twitched. There was rarely ever a time I felt relaxed around one of my parents, and his futile, horrendous, terribly cringe attempts did put a damper on his effort, but that wasn't so bad.

      On top of my new relationship with Levi, my relationship with my mom not being destroyed, and my dad actually trying for once, it seemed like my life was finally starting to improve.

      I tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me everything was going better than I deserved.

      We finally arrived at the clinic almost ten minutes later, and I pulled my right earbud out and put both into the case before putting them in my backpack. The building was just as I had remembered it, only it looked like it had received a recent paint job, making the exterior look clean and bright. 

      It was separated into three main structures; two tall buildings on either side with a short one-story lobby connecting them. The building on the left stretched up to several stories while the second one on the right was only raised by a few. All three structures were painted a boring beige color that reminded me of our kitchen walls, but had dark brown brick lining the base of them. Each floor was lined with silver-bordered windows, but the black bars that barricaded the ones around the right building were a grim reminder that this felt like more of a prison than a health clinic. 

      Two large parking lots as well as a few yards of browning grass surrounded the structure, and the entire facility was closed off by a tall silver fence lined with barbed wire. “Super welcoming," I muttered.

      My dad glanced at me before turning onto the road that led to the guarded gate. "Precautions are mainly just in place for the psychiatric center. While mentally-disabled patients are here for rehabilitation, incidents aren't guaranteed from happening," he explained.

      I was close to asking why someone would try to escape if they liked being there, but I kept my mouth shut. 

      We pulled up to the guardhouse just before the gate, and my dad rolled down his window as the person inside popped his head out.

      Oh. I actually recognized him, surprisingly. I couldn't remember his name, but those freckles and brown doughy-eyes were unforgettable. I knew people rarely quit working for my dad, but it was odd to see him at the same place after all this time.

      "Good morning, Dr. Jaeger," the man said with a polite smile.

      “Morning, Marco. I've brought my son with me today. You remember Eren." My dad leaned back in his seat to reveal me, and I leaned my head down over the center console to get into 'Marco's' full view. I gave a small, lazy wave as he beamed and waved back, his smile crinkling his freckles beneath his eyes.

      "Of course! Welcome back, Eren. Good to have you here," he said.

      This guy is a guard? He looked like he wouldn't hurt a fly even with a gun to his head. I guess the biceps bulging against his long-sleeved shirt had to speak for themselves. I didn't bother reading his mind, having to crane my neck was too uncomfortable to try keeping eye-contact for longer than a split second.

      Marco let us through the gate a moment later, and my dad slowly drove to the back lot reserved for 'Jaeger's Clinic and Recovery employees only.' He pulled into a spot with countless other cars that were already there, before shutting off the engine and letting his hands fall to his lap.

      I unbuckled my seatbelt and was about to push the door open, before my dad’s voice cut through the air. "Wait, Eren." I paused, settling back in my seat and raising an eyebrow at him.

      He continued to stare ahead, tapping his index finger on his thigh as silence followed. Then, he asked one question I hadn't been expecting. "Did you read Marco's mind?" My heart skipped a beat. Why the hell was he asking that?

      I fiddled with my hands in my lap, suddenly feeling like I was under a microscope and glancing away. "Um, no. The angle was too awkward. Why?" I looked at him again, my knee beginning to bounce anxiously.

      He seemed to have been holding his breath, as he exhaled loudly through his nose before relaxing his shoulders. "Remember when I said I had a task for you to partake in?" he said, lifting a hand and setting it on the wheel.

      I tilted my head, my hair falling forward. "Yeah...?" I swallowed, an uncomfortable anticipation settling in my gut.

      "Your mother and I have been very adamant about you not making a habit out of using your powers. That hasn't changed, however, you may see this as a chance to let loose—to see what you're capable of," he began. He was beating around the bush, that was obvious.

      "What exactly are you asking me?" I cut to the chase, and I realized he seemed to appear just as antsy as I was.

      "We caught a glimpse of what you could do with your Telekinetic abilities when the kitchen fire happened. However, I've been increasingly curious to know how morale has been between the nurses and doctors here at the clinic. We all put on a happy face. How would you feel about utilizing Telepathy to its greatest extent today?"

      My heart leapt to my throat. My hands felt clammy in my lap as I splayed them across my thighs, staring at the side of my dad's face that he kept glued ahead. I searched his expression for any deceit, for any signs of this being a test or a joke. But he kept his features mostly blank, an air of seriousness behind his drawn eyebrows. The sun hit his glasses in a way that made them reflect a blinding white light; I could hardly see the eye color we shared beneath them.

      "Are–Are you serious?" I asked despite everything about his demeanor screaming that he was.

      "I am. If you're up to it, I would like for you to read the minds of my employees—only for today. You would report back to me at the end of your visit," he confirmed.

      What the actual fuck? Was this the same man that only intervened fights with my mother only when my powers got involved? Was this the same person who hadn't looked me in the eyes for the past twelve years because he was afraid I would do the very thing he’s asking me to do to others right now?

      I thought back to the way he'd reacted when I'd put out the fire with nothing but my eyes. How he never spoke up like my mom did when I used my abilities for mundane, everyday things.

      I always knew my dad had a different perspective on my powers than my mom did—though he'd never admit it aloud. He wasn't as disgusted and distraught by them. He was reserved, he always had been, but in a strange, intrigued way.

      But why now, after all this time? Why did he feel this was the day to tell me he wanted me to read his employees' minds? If he'd mentioned his interest in the past, maybe I would have been more inclined to return to the clinic. Was it my mom he was afraid of upsetting? Had my dad really been against what I could do all along, or had he put on a facade?

      None of it made sense.

      My brain was a jumbled mess of juxtaposed thoughts, all the while my father was waiting for an answer.

      "Um, uh—yeah, I guess I can." It was all I had managed to say, as if he had only asked me to go out with him to a baseball game.

      He was momentarily tense before letting out a bated breath. "Great. Now, some of the doctors aren't the best at keeping eye-contact, but just do all that you can. If you don't end up reading everyone's mind, that's okay. I'll introduce to you some of my nurses and doctors, as well as whoever we happen run into, then you can take the reins from there. Does that sound like a plan?"

      I was still digesting the fact that this was even happening, but I stiffly nodded my head. "Yup."

      He returned the nod, more assuredly than I had, and finally unbuckled his seatbelt. "It's settled, then. Let's head inside." He opened the door, and I practically scrambled out, slamming it shut behind me as I prepared myself for what I was about to do. I read minds without permission or request almost every day, why was this so anxiety-inducing?

      I suddenly had the need to suck in a sharp breath and brought my hand to my chest. My dad had rounded the car and glanced at me. "Everything okay?" he asked.

      I quickly dropped my hand to my side. "Yeah. I've just had to take some deep breaths recently," I said with a shrug. My body was just weird sometimes, I didn't think too much of sporadic changes.

      He seemed to feel otherwise as he raised his eyebrow, glancing over my chest. "Are you sure? While we're in there we could run an EKG, maybe a spirometry to see if anything's—"

      "Nope. Absolutely not." I firmly cut him off. I wasn't letting him get his way. I didn't even get vaccinated here. "It's probably just my anxiety, dad," I added to ease his mind. He was momentarily silent before he nodded and began walking toward the staff entrance.

      I sighed, lifting my head to gaze at the tall building we were approaching.

     This will be interesting.

Chapter Text

Lights Out

༄༄࿐

      My palms itched by my side, soon feeling the sharp biting of my nails as my fists curled together. It was a short walk to the clinic's employee entrance, and dad used his keycard to unlock it. When a green light was accompanied by a high-pitched beep, he pulled open the large, metal door before letting me step inside first.

      Instantly, a chill ran up my spine. Strangely enough, despite the nearly frigid air of mid November, it was colder in here than it was outside.

      I was met with an influx of voices that bounced across the beige walls as the heavy door shut behind us. We had entered a short, vacant hallway, and after taking a few steps forward we entered a large open room occupied by several nurses and doctors. They floated through the crowded area with hurried steps carrying them to various destinations, clad in long white coats and button-downs or loose, dark blue scrubs.

      A few eyes flittered in our direction as we stepped further into the room. Some of the nurses smiled once they had noticed my dad, nodding their heads politely—others took swift double-takes once they spotted me beside him.

      I shoved my hands into my pockets, unused to this many pairs of eyes on me in an unfamiliar environment. Even though I used to come here when I was younger, I now felt uncomfortably vulnerable.

      Only, that wasn't the case this time. I had been given a job that granted me control over everyone else—only, it had been by my dad's hand. That fact alone was still difficult to wrap my head around.

      Telekinesis was a power I indulged in much more frequently than Telepathy in my day-to-day life. The limitation of having to make eye-contact was often too exhausting to try reading minds constantly. People would be surprised at how difficult it was to keep eye-contact with someone. It was the most frustrating thing about that particular power.

       However, the relieving thing was, this shouldn't be too hard. These were professional nurses and doctors—being socially cordial was usually a part of their job. Even if someone glanced away for a mere split second before returning to making eye-contact, which was habitual for most people, my connection to their train of thought wasn't usually broken. It wasn't until they established their gaze somewhere else for longer than a couple of seconds that I grew deaf to their thoughts. 

      I took a quiet, deep breath, steadying my nerves as someone began to approach us. Here we go.

      I recognized the girl who stood in front of us, as well, her thin arms clutching a clipboard to her small frame. If I thought I towered over Levi, this woman seemed to barely come up to the middle of my bicep.

      "Good morning, Dr. Jaeger," she greeted my dad. I couldn't remember her name, but her bright blue eyes flicked up at me, and the kind smile that stretched her delicate features tugged at something familiar at the back of my mind.

       Knowing I couldn't waste a split second of time, as length of eye-contact always varied, I reached into her mind.

      "Doctor Jaeger brought Eren! Wow... it's been such a long time. He's gotten so tall..."

      Her thoughts faded away as she broke eye-contact and looked back at my dad. Beneath her initial surprise, a memory was floating around about a familiar man with a thick mustache. I was lucky it only took a split second to read someone's thoughts, otherwise I'd never know what anyone was thinking.

      "Historia, you remember Eren." Dad gestured toward me.

      The woman—who I now knew was Historia—nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Welcome back, Eren," she paused," Doctor Jaeger, Mike has something he'd like to speak with you about," she said before turning back to me. "Enjoy your visit here!"

      My dad nodded before Historia turned away, meeting another nurse with dark brown hair before they began walking down a brightly lit hallway.

      Suddenly, I felt my dad's hand on my bicep—he was attempting to guide me forward with a gentle tug. I cringed my arm from his grip, raising a quizzical eyebrow at him. He didn't look at me, continuing on ahead as if he hadn't even touched me. The action uncomfortably reminded me of how he had manhandled me last week, and an unsettling pit took root in my stomach.

      "Mike is our head neurosurgeon. He's been here for almost as long as this building has. A bit of an odd man at first—if you don't remember, he tried to sniff you when you were younger."

      I did faintly recall the odd sensation that had met me many years ago—something like that was difficult to forget. "There's a conspiracy going on with the nurses that he's such a good neurosurgeon because he can sniff out conditions before they're diagnosed," he continued as we walked down a hallway adjacent from where Historia had gone.

      "That's not possible, is it?" I asked, though my eyebrows drew together when I realized what I could do shouldn't have been possible. And yet, here I was.

      My dad seemed to have the same train of thought, as he eyed me before taking a left at the end of the hallway. "I've grown to realize that anything is possible if your mind is open enough. Though, I'm not entirely sure how Doctor Zacharias feels about being compared to a dog," he said with a slight smirk, and I snorted.

      He slowed as we came upon a door—there was a window with its blinds shut just beside it. Dad knocked twice before twisting it open, stepping inside and allowing me to follow.

      The memory of Doctor Zacharias’ appearance was hazy due to it being so long since I'd last seen him, but accompanying that vagueness was an unforgettable mustache. It sat thick and plump above his upper lip, and the blonde bangs that shadowed his eyes made you wonder how he was even able to see without a surgeon's cap on. Would I even be able to read his mind with such an obscure view?

      He turned to us when we stepped into the room, eyeing me up and down before his nose twitched.

      Dad, as he had done each time so far, re-introduced me. Doctor Zacharias wasn't much for a small-talk, it seemed, though that wasn't all that surprising considering his towering height and subdued demeanor. He sniffed again before my dad continued. "Historia said you had something to speak with me about?"

      Doctor Zacharias nodded curtly, though he turned his head and eyed me with an apprehensive expression. I could catch a glimpse of his blue eyes as they met mine, and I took that as the only opportunity I would get.

      "Dr—eger needs—t—e more care—ul with who h—brings around. I have to go—er the test re—lts with him."

      "Er—n smells different. Darker."

      A shiver trailed up my spine. The broken train of thought, usually caused by an influx of thoughts overlapping one another or an attempt at beating them down, was unsettling. But nothing was as disconcerting as the last thing he'd thought, almost clear as day, before tearing his eyes from mine.

      I smell darker? What the hell does that even mean? How does somebody even smell darkness? Unless he was some kind of werewolf—which, god, with that facial hair he might as well be—it didn't make any sense.

      I shrugged my shoulders in with discomfort. It had reminded me of what Counselor Finger had thought last week—about 'the worst happening' if I didn't have anyone to talk to. Either these people were too paranoid for their own good, or they knew something about myself that I didn't.

      Catching onto the hint that Doctor Zacharias wanted to speak to my dad alone, he turned to me. "Why don't you wait outside for a moment, Eren—say hello to some of the nurses. I'll be out shortly."

      I nodded, my fingers twitching in my pockets before clearing my throat and leaving the room. The hallway was brightly lit, like the rest of the building, and I noticed a headache had begun to throb on the side of my temples. I hated hospitals. The one I went to for general health check-ups, Saint Augustine Hospital, was just as unwelcoming and sterile, though I knew I at least wasn't going to be experimented on. 

      I felt awkward just standing there, as I didn't want to stray too far from the room they were talking in. I looked around, noticing that the hallway was empty. I didn't know what nurses my dad was talking about. I saw someone briefly pass at the far end of the hall, not sparing me a glance as they quickly disappeared. I looked ahead at the closed door, noticing the silence that was settled over the air.

      My dad and Doctor Zacharias were behind that door, having a private conversation.

      When was anything ever private to me by my own will?

      I took one more look to my right. The hallway was still empty. Taking a deep breath, I took cautious steps to the door. Holding my breath in my lungs to remain as quiet as possible, I anxiously angled the side of my head up to it. I carefully pressed my ear flush against the cool metal, and the surface allowed their deep voices to ever-so-slightly echo through. 

      "Doctor Jaeger, this really doesn't seem wise. Zoe came to me with the results—it doesn't look good."

      "And that remains between us, do you understand me? You're a neurosurgeon, this is beyond your—"

      "Uh, hello?" 

      I jerked back, my breath tearing from my lungs in horror before I took several steps away from the door. I turned to my left to see a woman shut the door to another room behind her, a thin eyebrow raised as she stepped into the hallway.

      She was darker skinned, freckles littered over her nose and cheeks, and deep brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.

      "Um, sorry. I was just..." I pushed my hair back before rubbing my neck, at a loss for words. I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to say? There was literally nothing that could excuse the position I had just been caught in. 'Oh, I was just... smelling the door,' yeah, that would make a lot of sense.

      "Spying?" she said dryly, crossing her arms over her chest.

      My shoulders sagged, and I let out a dejected sigh. "Could you do me a favor and keep this between us?" I said quietly as I glanced at the closed door. The least I could do was try. My dad and Doctor Zacharias hadn't come out yet, so I assumed they hadn't heard me get caught.

      "Why should I? Who let a kid in here, anyway?" she sneered as she eyed me up and down, and I was irked with offense. She was pretty rude for a nurse.

      "I'm Doctor Jaeger's son," I muttered stiffly, and she paused before raising her eyebrows.

      "Ohh, you're the boss's runt. Damn, you've gotten tall." she seemed to relax as she leaned her weight on one foot. 

      I took a moment as she met my eyes to read her thoughts.

      "So, Dr. Jaeger finally dragged him back here. I'm surprised. The kid looked like he wanted to run for the hills when he saw how crazy this place was."

      So, she at least agreed this place wasn't as angelic as dad made it out to be. 

      "I'm dying to fuck Historia after work today." 

      My eyes widened, though I quickly tried to play it off as I awkwardly cleared my throat. She looked at me quizzically as I made a poor attempt at pursing my lips to hide a sudden smile.

      "Wh—"

      She cut herself off, her eyes drifting from me when the door behind me opened. Doctor Zacharias stepped out first, a concerned expression on his face—or rather, what little I could see of it—before dad followed him out from behind.

      So, there were some workplace relationships going on. That definitely painted the innocent-looking Historia in a different light.

      Doctor Zacharias nodded at the nurse in front of me. She gave him a half-assed salute in return, eyeing him curiously as he passed her and continued down the hallway without a word.

      I turned to my dad, who sighed, before straightening his posture and gesturing to the nurse. "Ymir, I see you've met Eren again," he said courteously. 

      He and 'Ymir' began a mindless conversation while I was finally allowed to think back on what I had overheard. I wasn't surprised to discover my dad was keeping something under wraps. Secrecy was his forté. There was just a part of me that hoped he had changed, but I shouldn't have expected anything more.

      He had sounded really stressed. There must be something going on with a patient that he doesn't want anyone to know about.

      I was jogged by a memory from a couple of weeks ago, when I had walked in on my parents' dejected faces—claiming something was going on with a patient at the clinic. I wonder if it was related to what I had heard? Part of me was curious, but another knew that it probably wasn't worth the effort to go out of my way and investigate further. If it was important enough, it would come around eventually.

      "Eren, let's go meet some of the other nurses. I'm sure word is going around that you're here." Dad cut off my train of thought with a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged him off, rolling my shoulders up. I wasn’t sure why he insisted on touching me.

      I wouldn't tell him I had overheard part of his conversation—he would most likely double down on the secrecy, and that would prevent be from finding out more if the time ever came.

      We headed down the end of the hall where I had seen someone pass by, and took a left to run into a small woman sorting through compartments on a shelf. She turned to us, smiling at my dad before turning to me with a thoughtful expression.

      "Doctor Ral, this is Eren, my son,” my dad began.

      Her smile widened. "Hey! It's nice to meet you!”

      I nodded, pursing my lips on a smile. "You, too."

      My dad glanced at me, and continued when he noticed I wasn't looking her in the eyes yet. "Petra started working here shortly after you turned sixteen. She specializes in blood samples—she could probably tell your blood type just by looking at it," he joked.

      Doctor Ral laughed, waving her hand through the air, and I smiled to play along even though I found it far from funny. "Oh, please. Doctor Jaeger is too kind for his own good," she said to me.

      Yeah, sure, that was one way to put it.

      "So, Eren, how have you been enjoying the place so far?" she asked.

      I blinked. "Uh, I haven't been here for that long but it seems... fine, I guess." I wasn't quite sure what to say, but one thing I did notice as I spoke was Doctor Ral was incredibly good at maintaining eye-contact, something that was hard to come by. So, as she responded, I tuned her out and sought out her thoughts instead.

      On top of her train of thought that guided her words, something odd was buried.

      "I think I left the door unlocked. Or the oven on. God, my dog is probably dead right now."

      "Get yourself together and act normal. Keep talking."

      "I have to get the blood sample to the lab before it's too late."

      "Does he know?"

      "Keep talking." 

      "He's staring so intently at me. It's creepy."

      I blinked before tearing my eyes away. Doctor Ral chuckled awkwardly. "Not much of a talker, huh?" she teased, looking at my dad.

      He sucked in a breath. "That's teenagers for you, am I right?" he replied before laughing again, then bidding Doctor Ral goodbye and continuing down the hall.

      That was weird. Talk about chaos. It was rare so many thoughts of different topics piled up at once—all while she was talking, too. The brain worked in mysterious ways.

      Before I could think any further on it, my temple suddenly throbbed with a pinching pain. I winced, bringing my fingers up to rub it.

      "Everything okay?" My dad asked, glancing at me briefly.

      I nodded my head. The feeling had come and went in only a matter of seconds, merely leaving a dull ache I could try to ignore. "Yeah, I'm fine."

      Concern nagged at the back of my skull, though I attempted to shrug it off. Telepathy wasn't my most practiced ability, my brain was probably still getting used to using it so frequently. After Principal Pixis and everyone I had met here, that made... five minds read in total, right? Five separate minds. Wow. I had never read that many in a day, let alone so consecutively.

      I guess today was the day I would test my limits.

      "Do you remember the new doctor I told you about, Hanji Zoe? She's in today, and I'd like you to meet her," he said as we continued walking.

      "Alright," I mumbled. I was getting to the point where I just wanted to get this over with. Although learning odd things about people was always an interesting experience, walking through this dull building was so mundane, and the headache that had suddenly bombarded me certainly did nothing to help my mood. What I really wanted to do was go home and finish the next Spider-Man 2 mission.

      "Eren," my dad said firmly, snapping out of my train of thought.

      "Hm?" I hummed, looking at him. He sighed. "Does your Concerta prescription need to be increased?" he asked.

      I scoffed. "ADHD medication doesn't just get rid of every single minor distraction, dad, you should know that," I sharply told him.

      He held his hand up. "Yes, you're right, I apologize. I asked how you feel about everyone so far. How it's... going," he reiterated.

      "It's... interesting, that's for sure," I said, and he hummed. "That's the medical field for you."

      He lowered his voice, taking a step closer to me. "How many minds have you read?" he asked quietly.

      The idea of him being open to the concept of me using Telepathy so nonchalantly was still new and mildly concerning, but I answered anyway. "Four, since we got here."

      He nodded, a somewhat pleased expression on his face. "So, everyone but Marco? Good," he replied before stepping away.

      He was behaving incredibly relaxed considering the scheme he had put me up to. Maybe he really was trying to warm me up to the idea of being myself at the clinic after all these years. Part of me still couldn't help but wonder if he had ulterior motives.

      As we continued walking until we reached an elevator, it dawned on me how huge this place was. And this was just the medical building—there was an entirely separate psychiatric building attached. Despite it having been my dad's occupation since before I could form words, it was still hard to believe he ran such a huge and intensive establishment.

      "This might sound like a stupid question," I began as we stepped onto the elevator. "But... what do you do here, exactly?"

      My dad glanced at me in his peripheral with a raised eyebrow before leaning forward and pressing the button to the fifth floor. I wasn't sure if he was offended or not, but he couldn't exactly blame me. There was a point where I wanted absolutely nothing to do with his occupation, so why would I care to know details?

      "Well," he began in a confident voice once he straightened his back. "In an ant colony, every single ant has its purpose; a job to do—one that keeps the colony running at its utmost efficiency. But at the center of that colony there's the queen. She keeps the colony running at its very core, ensuring everything is in its place. That's where I come in. I oversee the facilities' development, guaranteeing that everything is functioning at its most productive state, whether it be a lab, study, or even a patient's progress. I majored in biochemistry, so one will often find me in the bio lab working along side our brilliant biochemists. I minored in psychology, so I have a general understanding of both the human brain when it comes to its physical and mental capabilities, as well as its unfortunate disabilities. Hence, the idea of allowing the two to co-exist here, where it can be both studied and improved."

      My dad sounded incredibly proud to explain the embodiment of his job, as if he had been waiting for the day he could establish the importance of his career with me.

      However, all I could focus on since the moment he said it, was the comparison he had made to an ant colony.

      "So, you consider yourself a queen?" I said with a smirk, lifting my voice an octave to embellish the flamboyance I wanted to express.

      He stiffened beside me just as the elevator door opened. "Well—no, I merely used that as an analogy," he said quickly, and I chuckled as he guided me into the hall.

      "No, no, I think you're a great queen, dad. I think you should embrace it," I teased with a grin.

      He sighed, dropping his head. "Never-mind that. Here we are," he said, straightening his posture and reaching for a door to our right.

      But before he could grab the handle, it abruptly swung open, causing my dad to slightly jolt his head back.

      Revealed to us with a tall, lanky doctor—who I'll admit, looked quite ambiguous despite dad calling her female—with tousled brown hair thrown into the messiest ponytail I've ever seen, and that was coming from me.

      Her white coat was oversized, and the thickly-framed glasses pressed over her face seemed to make her eyes slightly larger than they probably were. A real mad-scientist feat.

      "Doctor Jaeger! I thought I heard voices out here," she said excitedly. That was the moment she turned to me, eyeing me up and down with a manic grin before pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "And who might we have here?" she said.

      My dad pushed his hands in the pockets of his coat. "This is my son I was telling you about, Eren. Eren, this is Doctor Zoe," he said, and her grin widened. 

      She stuck both hands out and yanked mine in front of me, clasping them in her palms before shaking vigorously. "So lovely to meet you, Eren. I've heard so much about you!"

      I blinked, taken-aback by how intense she was being. Then I realized she was leaning forward and looking directly into my eyes with a wide-eyed stare, one that looked even more deranged due to her glasses.

     I figured I might as well take that as my chance.

      "What a lovely specimen. He's such a fine looking one, just like his mom."

      "Doctor Jaeger must have plans for him. From the way he's spoken of him, he has a lot of potential. I can't wait to see what all of the fuss has been about!"

      Just like my mom? A lot of potential? I wasn't expecting her thoughts to be so personal. Hadn't she only been working here for a little under a month?

      I glanced down at our hands, which were still being shaken, and Doctor Zoe seemed to realize before stepping away. "So sorry! I can get a little ahead of myself. Come in, come in. I was just going over a patient's paperwork from the psychiatric department! I've made some serious progress if I do say so myself," she quickly turned around with a straightened back and folded her hands behind her, sauntering into the lab.

      I looked at dad, who idled beside me, and he was looking at my chin with a raised eyebrow, as if saying 'see what I mean?' I huffed a quiet laugh of disbelief before following Doctor Zoe inside.

      Suddenly, both of my temples throbbed painfully. I grunted, swinging my entire hand to my forehead and stilling just as I had entered the room.

      "Fuck," I whispered. The pain wasn't going away. It only seemed to be getting worse. Alongside it, a tingle began to bubble beneath the surface of my skin, washing through my body. In my peripheral I noticed Doctor Zoe turn to me, and my dad soon appeared by my side.

      "Eren, are you okay?" His deep voice vibrated through my skull.

      "I—uh, I don't feel so good," I mumbled. Dizziness started clouding my brain and the corners of my vision grew fuzzy, as if static was trickling in around my pupils.

      Another presence grew closer, though I was starting to make less sense of who it was. "Eren? Do you need to sit down?" Doctor Zoe's voice... I think. "What are your symptoms?"

      "I..." My tongue suddenly felt heavy, my lips pulled down by weights. Warmth started pooling under my nose, and I weakly lifted my hand to touch it. I brought it back down, and through the haziness of my vision, I noticed blood coating the surface of my fingers.

      "Eren?" a voice frantically said from beside me. Though it sounded both like a booming echo and a faint murmur in the background.

      Another sharp pain shot through my skull, and I gasped, my eyelids beginning to flutter. A body shot forward. "His nose is bleeding. He doesn't look good. Doctor Jaeger, call for a stretcher!"

      Voices faded into the background, and before I knew what was happening, the world began to spin around me. Blobs of color were all I could make out as I felt myself sway. It was as if the ground beneath my feet was pulled right out from under me. The polished tile floor became a plain, beige wall. The wall blurred into a bright, white ceiling.

      I hadn't realized I was falling backward until I roughly collided with the cold, hard floor, and everything went black.

༄༄࿐

      "What are you thinking?! He's just a boy!"

      "I know what's best for him! Don't question my judgement!"

      "I'm questioning your understanding of right and wrong! What is happening to you?!"

      "I never wanted this to happen!"

...

      "Eren, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

      "Please forgive me."

...

      "LEVI!"

༄༄࿐

      I gasped as my eyes snapped open, immediately met with harsh, white, fluorescent lights above me. I groaned, swinging my hand over my face and squinting in an attempt to block the assault.

      The first thing I noticed was the dull ache that throbbed on either side of my head. It was nothing compared to the searing pain I remembered so vividly. With it, memories of the last few hours began trickling in, as well as a daunting realization.

      I passed out.

      I had only passed out once before. It was during an IED episode following the worst day of my entire life, one I hated to remember.

      But this... this was different. Everything started getting fuzzy after I read... Doctor Zoe's mind. The sixth mind today.

      Had I really pushed myself too far?

      I blinked, slightly turning my head to look around and attempting to ignore the stiffness in my neck. I was in an empty hospital room, lying on a bed with white, sterile sheets. I was still in the clothes I had worn here, but a blanket was thrown over my body. I braced my hand on the bed—noticing the IV connected to my arm. I tried to lift myself up, but groaned at how exhausted I felt and collapsed back down.

      I furrowed my eyebrows once I noticed a tugging sensation on my head. I reached up, and my fingers came in contact with several thin wires. 

      "The fuck?" I mumbled, following them until I was met with patches pressed to my forehead and temples. There seemed to be thin layers of a jelly-like substance coating my skin around them.

      Fear and anger sparked in my veins, and I hurriedly tore them off, quickly sitting up. I winced as the IV tugged at my skin, looking back at the contraption that had been attached to me. The several wires seemed to connect to a machine behind my bed, which had gone flat after I had torn them off.

      I was about to call for someone, but then movement caught my peripheral. I turned to the window that divided my room from the hallway outside. The blinds were only slightly open, allowing me to peer through the thin gaps between them. My heart sank when I noticed my mom on the other side. Her expression was pinched, eyebrows pressed together as her mouth moved frantically. Underneath the humming of the lights and machines around me, I could make out her harsh, muffled voice.

      Her aggression was aimed at my dad, who stood in front of her with a somber look on his face. He didn't seem to retaliate, taking the full verbal beating, and only responding with a quiet word every now and then as my mother pointed a stern finger at his chest.

      I sat up straighter, watching them argue with a frown. My movement seemed to have caught their attention, as my mom glanced over at the window before doing a double-take with wide, hazel eyes. She pushed past my dad, who noticed me as well, and opened the door to the room before rushing inside.

      "Eren!" she called. "You're awake." She was by my side in an instant, searching my face and the part of my body she could see, but not meeting my eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked.

      "I'm fine," I muttered, slightly put-off by her concern.

      "Take it easy, Eren. You should be laying down," my dad said from behind her. I noticed my mom's eyes harden into a glare as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

      But I ignored him, grunting as I braced myself on the bed. "What were those wires attached to my head?" I asked suspiciously, my tone accusatory.

      My dad held a hand up. "Nothing to be concerned about. You passed out due to exhaustion and extreme stress inflicted on your brain. They were nothing more than a means to help mediate your brain waves while unconscious, so the stress wouldn't surge again when you woke up. It's something we've been working on with patients who suffer from PTSD—nothing harmful whatsoever," he explained.

      I looked at him with a tight jaw, searching for a lie in his words. He wouldn't make eye-contact, yet he appeared calm, glancing at my mother sadly before looking down at the floor.

      I sighed again. "Fine. But next time, don't bother," I told him through a frown.

      He opened his mouth to reply, but mom stepped forward. "There won't be a next time. Eren, what were you thinking? Using your powers like that—you have no idea what you could have done to yourself," she whispered harshly.

      I scoffed. "I'm fine, aren't I? I'm not a baby, I can make decisions on my own," I sneered, burning with irritation.

      My mom gaped at me. "That decision could have gotten you seriously hurt!"

      Anger seered behind my eyes. "BUT I'M NOT!" I shouted, my fists clenched. The lights flickered as my mom jerked back, mouth agape, and my dad placed a hand on her shoulder.

      A twinge of pain shot through my head, causing me to wince and fall back against the bed. I watched my mom’s expression harden, and she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the door opened again.

      We all looked over to see Doctor Zoe strutting into the room, waving the air in front of her nose. "Whew! Smells like tension in here. Welcome back to the land of the living, Eren. How are you feeling?" she casually asked.

      I stared at her quizzically as she stepped forward, eyeing the flat machine behind me before reaching over to turn it off. "Um, I'm fine. My head just... still kind of hurts," I mumbled.

      She nodded. "We'll give you some painkillers that'll take care of that just fine," she said.

      "Why don't we step outside and give Eren a moment," dad told mom quietly. She huffed, looking from me to Doctor Zoe, who smiled politely, before shrugging off my dad's hand. It was difficult to think about how I'd done the same earlier.

      I lulled my head to the side as they turned and left the room, watching Doctor Zoe move to the side of my bed. "No remaining symptoms of lightheadedness or exhaustion, right?" she asked, a clipboard in hand.

      I shook my head. "No. I feel fine otherwise," I said quietly, and she quietly took notes while humming a strangely chipper tune. "How long was I out for?" I asked next.

      "About an hour," she replied, "meaning your body needed a lot of rest before coming to."

      I frowned, leaning my head back and noticing the machine in my peripheral.

      "Nothing was... done to me while I was unconscious, right?" I muttered, looking down at my unfurled hand.

      Doctor Zoe paused, eyeing me curiously over her clipboard. "No... Your father and I stabilized you and the brain-wave modifier, then another nurse helped with the IV while we scanned you. Why? What would have been done to you?" she asked.

      I shook my head, sighing. "Nothing, never-mind," I said bitterly. I could feel Doctor Zoe staring at me for a moment before she went back to her clipboard and continued humming.

      "Alright, then. Let's get this IV out of you, then I'll head out to get some pain reliever for your head." Doctor Zoe placed her clipboard on the table beside my bed. She then approached my arm that had the IV inserted, an alcohol wipe held in one of her gloved hands. She tore it open before rubbing it around and under the adhesive, gradually pulling it off as she applied it. I realized it didn't hurt as much as it usually did when other nurses did it, and was thankful that she was being so careful.

      She held down the insertion with one finger as she readied the gauze, then released the pressure before slowly pulling it out. She immediately covered the area with the gauze and taped it with more adhesive, before discarding her gloves and the used IV.

      "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, 'kay?" she chirped before spinning on her heel and walking out.

      I sighed, leaning my head back and bending my now free, stiff arm. I blinked up at the bright light above my bed, a frown tugging the edges of my lips. Today definitely hadn't gone as well as I'd hoped. I took a deep breath to try to calm my stricken nerves, but only ended up huffing it out in frustration.

      Why couldn't it have just been easy? Why did I have to find out the hard way that using Telepathy too often would make me look so weak?

      It was annoying enough as it was that it had such a limitation to it. If I was going to be cursed with these powers, why couldn't whatever sick force had given them to me just let me have them? Why did I have to jump through so many hoops in such an already fucked-up situation?

      I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. It was humiliating to have my mom belittle me in such a way, as if I was still just a child. When would she get it through her thick skull that I wasn't a helpless fucking baby?

      I huffed, dropping my hand and looking around the room for my belongings—that's right, I had left my backpack in Dad’s car. But I spotted my phone on a chair on the other side of the room.

      I was flooded by sudden thoughts of Levi, if he had been texting me, waiting for me to respond. My heart surged with excitement, the one relieving feeling I had experienced since arriving here. If anyone was going to make me feel better, it was him.

      I could have just gotten up and grabbed it myself, but where was the fun in that? Using my powers after what had happened was risky, but I had never been met with such an adverse reaction from Telekineses as much as I had with Telepathy.

      I glanced through the window beside the door—it didn't look like Doctor Zoe was coming back yet, and I couldn't see my parents from here. I looked back at my phone, feeling my expression twist with concentration. My head still suffered from a dull ache, but it was nothing that prevented me from lifting the phone from the chair.

      I grinned, pride swelling in my chest. My fingers itched to reach out and take it, but I had to wait until it was a bit closer, first. I began pulling it toward me, squinting my eyes and keeping it as steady as possible as it floated through the air.

      Then, the door flew open, and I had never almost shit my pants so quickly in my entire life.

      I dropped my phone to the floor, trying to ignore the horror that washed over me as it clattered against the hard tile. I jerked my head to Doctor Zoe with my heart pounding in my chest.

      She looked up from her clipboard, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her eyes went from my tense expression to my phone, which laid pathetically in the space between my bed and the chair.

      I watched her anxiously, feeling sweat begin to prickle my forehead as neither of us moved.

      Then, by the grace of whatever the fuck, she snorted. "Didn't mean to scare you into throwing your phone! Gotta be more careful than that." She walked over to the device on the floor and picked it up, turning it around to examine it.

      "It's as if it never happened," she said, holding it out to me with a grin. The florescent light above us reflected in her glasses just right, causing a bright glint to keep me from seeing her eyes.

      "Thanks..." I mumbled, quickly grabbing my phone from her and clutching it tightly in my unstable hands. My heart still threatened to beat out of my ribcage as my brain gradually caught onto the fact that she hadn't seen anything.

      She held up a small white bottle, wiggling it in the air. "I brought you the pain reliever. It's compatible with your medication, so no need to worry. Take two now, then just continue with one if the pain flares up again—no more than once every three hours, alright?" She said. Under her arm was a water bottle, which she switched with her clipboard before placing it on the table beside my bed.

      I grabbed the bottle of pain killer from her and opened the child-locked lid, grabbing two and swallowing the pills dry. "Woah, killer, drink some water with those. Doctor's orders," Doctor Zoe said, grabbing and uncapping the water bottle for me. I took it from her, forcing myself to take two swigs before setting it back down and throwing the hospital covers off of my body.

      Doctor Zoe's expression turned concerned. "Eren, you need to rest. Do you need to use the bathroom?" she asked.

      I shook my head. "No. I'm leaving," I said, throwing my legs off the side of the bed and standing up.

      I slightly swayed as I did, which angered me to no end. I was still weak. I clenched my jaw, shoving my phone in my pocket after stabilizing myself. "Eren, wait. I know this all seems overwhelming, but you fainted out of nowhere after an epistaxis. We need to make sure your condition remains stable," Hanji tried, reaching out to me.

      I held out my hand to stop her. "I'm fine," I snapped, and Hanji huffed, but dropped her hand to her side.

      I was overwhelmed, pissed off, and my body ached. The last thing I wanted was to be in a fucking hospital.

      I walked to the door and ripped it open. Mom and Dad’s heads snapped over to me, surprised eyes meeting my neck. "Eren? What are you doing?" Mom asked, pushing herself off the wall and uncrossing her arms. 

      "Leaving," I said plainly, walking forward and passing her as she gawked at me. My dad grabbed my arm, and I was overwhelmed by a sensation of fear, rage, and a memory I struggled to forget. "Get OFF of me!" I yelled, staggering back.

      "Eren, you need to calm down. You've had a long day, and you need to rest," he tried.

      "No, I need to get the fuck out of here," I said, continuing to walk down the hall until I saw the sign for the elevator.

      "Eren! You have no way of getting home," my dad called.

      "I'll figure it out!" I shouted back, throwing a disregarding hand behind me before reaching the elevator.

      "EREN!" my mom shouted from down the hall, but I ignored her as I stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby.

      Nurses and doctors stared at me oddly as I burst from the elevator and made a bee-line for the exit my dad and I had come from. I noticed the small blonde nurse who I couldn't remember the name of eye me with a concerned expression, but I ignored her before turning the corner.

      A sense of relief washed over me the second I was met with the crisp, chilled air outside. The metal door shut behind me, beeping as it locked, meaning I had no way of returning that way on my own.

      I was more than happy with that fact as I shoved my hands into my pockets and trudged from the building. I had no idea where I was going and there was no way I could walk home from here, but all I knew was I needed to get as far from it as possible. Maybe I would find a bus station nearby.

      The sun was high in a barely cloud-spotted sky, marking early afternoon. It was a rare sight, especially during late fall, but the light did nothing to improve my mood.

      I cursed when I realized the only way out from here was by passing the guardhouse. I could walk all the way around the building until I got to the public parking lot and find a way out there, but I didn't know how far of a walk it would be.

      Marco was still there when I neared it, looking down at some papers. I paused when I realized he hadn't noticed me yet, looking around to debate how easy it would be to sneak by.

      Before I could decide on my next move, he lifted his head and looked back at me. "Eren?" he said curiously.

      I played it off, casually walking forward like I had been planning on doing so all along. "Yeah, hey. I just need some fresh air so my dad said I could step out for a bit," I lied.

      He blinked at me for a moment before nodding. "Oh, alright. No problem. There are some coyote's around here, though, so just be on the lookout," he said with a kind smile before looking down at his papers again.

      It took me a moment to realize how easy that had been. I let out a breath I hoped he hadn't heard before rounding the guardhouse and exiting the barriers of the facility. I began dragging my feet down the long road that led to the main highway, shrugging my shoulders in as a gust of biting wind passed.

      I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned it on, scrolling through the notifications I had received. My heart sank when I realized there were no messages from Levi. I knew I had to be rational, he was still in school. But why did knowing he hadn't reached out fill me with such despair and bitterness? Had what I’d done today put him off? Was he no longer interested in me because he thought I was too impulsive?

      "FUCK!" I shouted, kicking at the dark asphalt beneath my feet.

      I shoved my phone back in my pocket and kept walking until I reached the main road. Lines of trees stretched for miles on either side, most blowing bare in the wind, but others hanging on to browning leaves by mere threads. I headed in the direction of the city, knowing I wouldn't make it anywhere close, but I just needing to keep walking.

       Either I would run into something, or I would end up paying a shit ton of money to call an uber. 

      I walked for several minutes, my nose beginning to grow numb from the air. Maybe I really was an idiot for leaving, but I couldn't stay trapped in that building for any longer. At least out here, I was free, unhindered by the limits others tried to put on me.

      I scoffed. Who was I kidding? I would always be limited by something. Today was enough to prove that. As powerful as I felt sometimes, at the end of the day, even I was still weak. The moment I felt like I was on top of the world, something always knocked me down a few pegs with a harsh slap to the face. It was as if control was mocking me, constantly dangling on a string, but always yanking away the second I tried to grab ahold of it.

      I pulled one of my hands out of my pocket and pushed my hair back on my head, feeling the remaining residue from the gel sticking to my skin. I groaned, attempting to rub it off, but only smearing it more and gluing it to my fingers.

      I sighed in defeat, dejectedly letting my hand drop to my side. Cars occasionally passed by as I walked, but otherwise, the highway was mostly quiet.

      Suddenly, the trees to my left began to thin, and a gap could be seen up ahead where natural light filtered through. Assuming it was simply a house in the middle of nowhere, I planned on walking past it. But I slowed my pace once the line of trees ended, the gap revealing a large, fenced off junkyard filled with trashed, abandoned cars.

      I looked ahead, seeing the seemingly endless span of road and trees that disappeared into the horizon. I came to a slow stop, only now noticing the ache in my legs. I glanced back at the junkyard, brought a hand up to my forehead to shield the sunlight, and squinted my eyes. I attempted to look around for any buildings or people that may be inside, yet saw nothing but dirt, cars, and the expanse of trees surrounding it.

      I shrugged, dropping my hand and heading toward the fence. With a grunt, I jumped, pulling myself up on the metal wire until I reached the top. It was a relatively short fence, so it wasn't painful to drop down to the ground and did my best to dust off my sticky hands. 

      Looking around, I realized how utterly abandoned the place looked. I mean, it was a junkyard, but it looked straight out of an apocalypse. Not only was it littered with broken and rusted cars, but weeds and vines had begun to creep from the dirt and take over various parts, climbing into the cars with shattered windows. One even looked like it was being pulled into the ground, the earth attempting to make sense of the unknown material and turn it into fertilizer.

      I knew I had plenty of time to kill, and I had never been in a junkyard before, so I started to walk around. The various types of abandoned cars made for an interesting exploration. Classic Chevys from the 1960's, old Fords that varied from the 1900's to the early 2000's, a PT Cruiser here and there, a Jeep that looked like it was rusting into dust. There were a ton of Toyotas, which seemed to be the most popular car, but they were hardly as interesting to look at. There were a few I couldn't recognize the brands of, as they had been torn and picked apart to the point of being mere shells of what they once were.

      I may have known of a lot of car types, but I didn't consider myself a car guy. This was proven by how little I knew about the tons of parts scattered around the junkyard without purpose.

      I sat down on the dirty hood of one of the Toyotas, hearing it creak and dip beneath my weight on its flat tires. I looked at a metal rod that lay unmoving on the ground in front of me, and absentmindedly, I Telekinetically lifted it up.

      Noticing my head wasn't complaining, I lifted it higher. It mindlessly rotated without direction, as if hanging by an invisible thread. Leaves just barely fluttered around it before floating to the ground. I tilted my head back and lifted the rod until only the vast blue sky could be seen behind it. I let it hang there, watching it absentmindedly. When I grew bored of it, I released my grip, watching it fall through the air and clatter onto the dirt and grass-laden ground. 

      I huffed a small, amused laugh. As much as Telepathy tended to fail me, Telekineses was something I knew I could always rely on. It was what really made me powerful.

      The fire I had put out, the revenge I had taken on the kid who said that vile thing about Levi by his locker, the fact that I could be across the room and bring something I needed straight to my hands without moving an inch.

      It was what I truly took pride in.

      I stood up from the hood, forgetting the rod and focusing on another car part a few feet away from it. I didn't know what it was, but it was slightly bigger and made of steel.

      I lifted it up from the ground. It was heavier, but I could manage it with ease. I yanked it higher into the air before throwing it against a crumbling brick wall. It collided with the surface and broke apart, scattering into several pieces on the ground.

      Excitement rushed through my veins, the urge to prove myself taking over any sense of rationale. It didn't matter how little others thought of me. It didn't matter how irresponsible or weak my mom thought I was.

      This was me. This was power.

      I glanced at a lonely tire, one that looked like it belonged to an average-sized car, maybe one on the smaller side. It required a bit more effort than before, yet I lifted it nonetheless, dragging its weight through the air. I tried to keep its spinning to a minimum, developing a firm, invisible chain around its movement.

      When I felt ready, I threw it at a car. It crashed into the hood with a heavy bang, creating a dent in the surface.

      It wasn't enough; I needed to try more. I looked around, soon laying eyes on a giant tire that seemed to belong to some kind of truck. Maybe a semi. It was at least twice as big as a normal tire, both in diameter and thickness.

      My fingers itched by my side. I had never lifted something that heavy before. But during episodes, I had thrown TVs like they were nothing—I had moved couches, flipped tables, and shattered glass. If I could hone in on that strength, control it outside of my outbursts, there was no telling what I was capable of.

      I clenched my fists, glaring at the tire, then yanking on it. It slowly slid toward me, dragging over the floor with complaint. I brought it to a halt before attempting to lift it up. I felt its force push against me, its weight tugging on my own as I grit my teeth. My pulse thumped beneath my skin and my fists twitched, but the tire soon stood from the floor and gradually began to hover in the air.

      I grinned, pride inflating my chest. I let it drop to the ground where it thumped loudly and began to roll in another direction.

      I heaved as a breathy laugh began to escape me. "Fuck you!" I shouted. Whether it was at the tire, my parents, or the world, I didn’t know. My voice echoed through the junkyard, a group of birds fleeing from the canopy of trees that surrounded it.

      I looked around, eyes wide and nerves itching. A sudden, overwhelming wave of fury swelled inside me, and I yelled before turning and slamming my fist onto the hood of a car. Pain vibrated through my hand and trembled up my arm, but I barely felt it.

      "COME ON!" I shouted at nothing, huffing through my teeth. I glared at the car that I had punched, a basic Ford from the late nineties, trailing my eyes over its rusted edges.

      The tire wasn't enough. I needed something bigger.

      I took slow steps away from the vehicle and looked around again. This was it. This was what I needed to push my limits to its greatest extent. This was how I would prove myself.

      I hesitated. There was no way the car would move, would it? It was at least thirty times heavier than the tire, if not more.

      But I knew I wouldn't be able to leave here without trying.

      My hands shook by my side, lips parted as I panted. The car wasn't held down by vines, its windows still in tact, yet its tires long-since flattened. I stared at the enormous size of it, rapidly flicking my eyes over its exterior, trying to not allow myself to be overwhelmed by its mass.

      I took a deep, shaky breath, curling my hands into fists to stabilize them.

      Then, I pushed on it. I was immediately hit with resistance, the grass around its wheels fluttering as the metal began to groan in protest. It was unmoving, mocking me with its weight as I tried to take control of it.

      So, I shoved harder. My teeth grit painfully as I braced my feet on the dirt floor. A strained sound escaped me as the car began to creak.

      I didn't relent. I wouldn't. My head throbbed, the world around me beginning to blur until only myself and the car remained. It was like the kitchen fire all over again—everything else faded into nothing, my mind solely focused on one, clear goal.

      My feet began to shift in the dirt, and I realized I was being pushed backward. I strained against the force, pushing even harder. I yelled, but I could hardly hear it, tears welling in the corner of my eyes as frustration and pain overcame me.

      The edges of my vision began to darken, and in the back of my mind I feared I was only moments from passing out again. But I couldn't stop. Even as the weight of my own body betrayed me, pushing me back with its force, I screamed. The windows of the car shattered, glass flying from the vehicle and scattering across the floor.

      I took a forceful step against the weight pushing against me, and as the earth trembled, it was as if a dam had burst. Everything I had been holding in my entire life—every emotion, every fear, every ounce of resentment, sadness, and rage, came flooding forward.

      Tears streamed down my face, and with them, the car shot back until it slammed against the one behind it.

      I stopped yelling, my throat raw, cracked, and dry. The world grew silent as I stared at the car with wide, bloodshot eyes.

      I did it.

      That was the only thought I could conjure before my vision blurred all over again. I swayed as my balance was ripped from me, teetering back until the ground was swept from beneath my feet. For the second time today, I fell back until I collided with the dirt, a harsh grunt pulled from my lungs. But the world didn't go black this time.

      I stared up at the blue sky, the autumn sun twinkling its bright, vast light just past the center. The faintest simmers of heat amongst the chilled air beamed down on my skin as I heaved, desperately catching my breath.

      But even after everything, a lazy smile lifted my lips. I fluttered my eyes shut, allowing myself to soak in what minuscule gift the star could give me as the wind caressed my sweat-spotted skin. Every part of me was tingling, a sense of euphoria caressing me as my mind threatened to slip away.

      I barely noticed the buzz from my back pocket. My eyes snapped open, the thought of who it could be shoving my exhaustion aside.

      With a grunt, I lifted my hips—noticing how heavy and lethargic I felt, and pulled out my phone. A thin layer of dust and dirt covered the screen, and I hurriedly blew at it before attempting to wipe it off with my shirt.

      Once it was clean enough, I turned it on, reading the new notification. The sigh of relief that escaped me and the somersault my heart made were perfectly intertwined, synchronizing as if they had reunited after being apart for years.

Hope your parents aren’t terrorizing you too much.

As stupid as it was, I really am thankful for what you did for me today.

      I held my phone to my chest for a moment, soaking in the way those words made me float with delight, my heart overwhelmed with longing.

      But I didn't allow myself to keep him waiting for too long. I checked the time, realizing school would be out soon. 

can u pick me up after school?

      I wasn't sure if he simply had a free period or if he was texting me in the middle of class, but it only took him seconds to respond.

Pick you up? From where?

i kinda had a situation... and ran away from my dad's clinic

A situation? Are you okay?

that's debatable

Eren.

trust me i'm ok

but i'm like 25 minutes from home

and i really wanna see u

      There was a moment of silence where no dots appeared, and my heart sank just as rapidly as it had flipped only moments ago. 

      Taking his lack of response as a no, I let my phone dejectedly fall against my chest, staring up at the sky with dead eyes. Minutes passed where I simply laid there, hopeless, prepared to rot away in the junkyard and become a part of the earth. 

      But when my phone buzzed again, I scrambled to pick it up, almost dropping it in the process.

Okay. Tell me where you are

      My heart swelled until I feared it would burst from my chest.

google maps

it's this address but a little bit before it

you'll see me standing on the side of the road

like a sad and pathetic hitchhiker

I'll be there as soon as I can

ty. also, take the suv, not the ford

i'm rlly dirty

You're crazy

i know

<3

      Shutting off my phone, I let my arms fall back against the dirt, a giddy smile threatening to tear through me as I finally allowed myself to feel okay again.

Chapter Text

Borrowed Pants

༄༄࿐

      As much as I wanted to lay on the dirt floor and fall asleep beneath the sun, I knew Levi would be here soon. School had come to an end ten minutes ago, which meant he'd probably be here in around fifteen, if I were lucky. Even though not much time had passed since I left school with my dad, the mere idea of seeing him again was enough to get me off the ground and onto my wobbly feet.

      However, as I looked down at myself, I realized there was a pretty big issue. I was exhausted and disgusting, covered in dirt, dust, and dried gel. Levi probably wouldn't even want to touch me.

      I sighed, doing my best to brush off what I could from my ass and thighs. I reached for the hem of my sweater and pulled it over my head, shivering at the biting chill that met my skin. I shook out my shirt as much as I could, scattering any dirt, grass, and gravel that may have clung to it, before throwing it back on.

      I turned, ready to head toward the fence and leave the way I came, but I paused to glance back at the car I had moved only twenty minutes ago. It was smashed against the one behind it, glass surrounding its flattened wheels and powerful aluminum caved in on itself as if it were only paper. I pursed my lips, looking down at my hand. The very hand that had done nothing but watch as my mind nearly crushed a four-thousand-pound vehicle.

      Then, a smirk of pride lifted my expression, and I began walking toward the road with my hands in my pockets and an inflated chest.

      It didn't take longer than anticipated for Levi to arrive. Knowing he had come as fast as he could tugged at my heart with a sense of belonging, the idea of being wanted setting a profound ache within me. I could see the SUV in the distance, going well below the speed limit as I assumed he was prepared to stop the second he spotted me. Luckily, the highway was still empty, only trees and the surrounding animals its company, so Levi had no problem pulling off to the shoulder and slowing to a halt once he noticed me.

      He pulled off to the shoulder where asphalt met grass, bowing down to look at me through the passenger window as I heard the doors unlock. I tugged it open and slinked into the car, a soft groan escaping me as I sat down. I met Levi's eyes, and it was as if the entire world had been gifted to me all at once.

      "You look like shit," was the first thing he said.

      My heart betrayed me by the way it sunk, and I tore my eyes from him as I grabbed a lock of my dirty hair, fidgeting with it pathetically. "I know; sorry," I muttered.

      I glanced back hesitantly, only to see him frown, leaning forward and taking in my expression. "No witty comeback?" he asked.

      I shrugged. "I've had a long day," I replied.

      He nodded before reaching over and patting my thigh. "Let's get back, then," he said before putting the gear in drive and pulling forward. Luckily, the road was so long and straight that there were no blind spots, so he had no issues keeping a lookout as he made a swift T-turn and began heading in the opposite direction on the highway.

      "Should I ask why I'm going to have to clean my uncle's car seat later?" he began. I leaned back in the seat, sighing as I relaxed my hands between my legs.

      "I was playing in the junkyard," I said simply.

      Levi raised an eyebrow, looking at me for a brief moment before keeping his eyes on the road. "Why am I not surprised?" he said with a smirk, and I smiled with a lazy roll of my eyes.

      Once my adrenaline was finally allowed to simmer down in a more comforting presence, the fatigue from today seemed to wash over me all at once. As if my muscles had become weights, I sagged into the seat, letting my eyes rest as the faint remnants of my headache thumped along my temples.

      Levi didn't say much during the drive, but the silence was comfortable. Nothing felt forced, which was one of the things that relieved me the most between Levi and I, and it was exactly what I needed after such an overwhelming day.

      I cracked my eyes open and lulled my head over to look at him. He was mindlessly tapping the wheel with his index finger, muttering something under his breath. He looked almost angelic as the sun occasionally dotted his skin, painting his features an ivory yellow.

      "What are you looking at me like that for?" he asked without even glancing in my direction.

      I smiled. "You're cute," I mumbled, and he scrunched his nose up so adorably I thought I might have melted in my seat.

     "So you've said," he replied in an ambiguous tone.

      "Why don’t you like being called cute?" I asked, shifting in my seat to face him better. I recalled his similar distaste for it this morning.

      He shrugged. "There are simply other adjectives you could use that are preferred," he replied.

      "Yeah? Like what?" I teased, sliding my bottom lip between my teeth as I continued to look at him despite him keeping his eyes on the road.

      He hummed. "Pretty, stunning, heavenly, astonishing, perfect in every conceivable way, the boot that's going to stomp you into the ground if you call me cute one more time," he casually listed off.

      I chuckled. "Okay, okay, I get it. No more calling you cute," I said. Then, I thought about how he looked under the sunlight. "How about angelic?" I asked.

      He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Please, I'm far from an angel," he said.

      I raised an eyebrow, catching on to what he was insinuating. "Care to elaborate?" I asked with a smirk.

      A small smile lifted the corner of his lips. "That’s for you to find out,” he said slyly. I raised an eyebrow, but let the implication hang in the air.

      A few minutes later, we entered our neighborhood. Levi calmly drove over the smooth road, taking the speed bumps as gently as possible. "From what I saw on google maps, your dad's clinic is massive. I'm surprised you guys don't live in a huge mansion outside of the city," he said.

      "My mom doesn't want that kind of lifestyle. She enjoys trying to fit in and act like an average middle-class citizen," I replied, and even I could notice the hint of bitterness on my tongue.

      "Would you want to live like that? In a mansion in high class society?" he asked, glancing at me.

      I laughed dryly. "Fuck no. I'd be happy just living in a shitty apartment in New York, or something. But not because I want to fit in, simply because I don't care enough to be that wealthy."

      He hummed. "I'm kind of the same. I wouldn't want to live in the slums, or anything, but I don't care much for wealth. There are more valuable things to life, in my opinion," he said.

      "Exactly," I agreed.

      A couple of minutes into our stretch of suburbia, I realized he hadn't yet driven to my house—the only time he had seen it was when Kenny dropped me off. "Do you need my address? It's just a couple of blocks from your place," I said.

      He tapped his finger on the wheel again. "Actually, my uncle isn't home. He's talking to a contractor outside of the city. I was thinking we could go to my house, get you cleaned up, then maybe watch a movie or something," he said before biting his bottom lip. He kept his eyes glued to the road, as if anxious for my response.

      I perked up, sitting a bit straighter in my seat. Fuck Spider-Man 2, Levi just invited me to watch a movie at his house.

      "Yeah, of course," I replied without hesitation, and he finally looked at me.

      One of his eyebrows was raised as a small smile graced his gentle features. "You're like an excited puppy," he said, and as if the sucker-punch of his words knocked the wind right out of me, I slouched back in the seat with my arms crossed over my chest. "Aww, now you looked like a kicked puppy," he teased.

      I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the smile that threatened to stretch over my face. "Shut up," I muttered.

      It didn't take long for us to arrive at his house. It was just as clean and well-kept as I remembered, and I wondered if his uncle had the same kind of standards Levi seemed to have. It would make sense, considering Levi was raised by him.

      He pulled into the driveway and opened the garage with a black button clipped to the sun visor. Even the garage was immaculately clean, boxes of stored items stacked neatly on one side. There wasn't much in there yet, since they had only recently moved in, but I wouldn't be surprised if they continued to keep it as organized as possible as long as they lived here.

      He shut off the car and opened the door, climbing out with his backpack slung over his shoulder. When I met him outside in the garage, it dawned on me. "I just realized I'm not going to be able to do any of my homework because I left all of my shit in my dad's car," I said. Truthfully, I didn't care, but my grades were shit enough that I probably should have.

      Levi rolled his eyes at me over his shoulder. "Well, I can't help you much with the classes we don't have together, but if you want to go over Mr. Hannes' assignments I can help you," he said.

      I smirked, following him to the back door as pulled his house key out of his pocket. "So, is it a study date or a movie date? I'm getting mixed signals here," I said, hovering behind him as he opened the door.

      "We'll see where the night takes us," he said before smirking at me over his shoulder, and I bit my lip on a smile as we stepped inside.

      The garage door lead into a small area coming off of the kitchen and dining room. I shut the door behind me, but before we could go any further into the kitchen, I grabbed his wrist. "Wait," I said softly, and he turned around to face me with a raised eyebrow.

      "What?" he asked curiously, looking into my eyes. Instead of responding, I pulled him closer and wrapped my arms around his waist, tucking them under his backpack.

      "I missed you," I said as I held him against me, kissing the side of his head. He smelled like roses and vanilla, which I wasn't sure was even possible after gym class. Had he put on more perfume before picking me up?

      He scoffed, his hands resting on my chest as I brushed my nose over his hair, inhaling his scent. "I was literally with you at school three hours ago," he mumbled against my shirt, yet he made no attempt at pushing away.

      "But still," I muttered, pulling back and bringing my fingers to the bottom of his chin. I lifted his head until our eyes met, and I witnessed a flush of pink begin to wash over his cheeks. His expression looked so fragile. Out of nowhere, I had the urge to know what he was thinking at this very moment—something I hadn't felt in a while when it came to him. I did my best to beat it away, silencing my own thoughts by leaning down and pressing our lips together.

      A small sound that was barely there met the back of his throat, one that shot right through my spine and ignited a sharp heat in my gut. I held him tighter as our mouths molded together, moving slowly and methodically, an air of passion existing between them. His lips were soft, thin yet somehow pillowy at the same time as they rhythmically parted and closed. I'd kissed people before, but nothing had ever felt like this. If I could remain in this very position for the rest of my life, I don't think I'd give a shit about anything else.

      I removed one of my hands from around his back but immediately slid it up his neck, cupping the side of his jaw as he tilted his head for a better angle. We remained that way, simply kissing in the kitchen for what felt like minutes, yet probably wasn't even sixty seconds, before I slowly pulled away and grinned down at him.

      His eyes were slightly wide as he looked up at me, face even redder than before. He looked like he wanted to say something—I could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed—but instead he untangled himself from my arms and took a step back.

      "You good?" I asked, eyebrow raised as a smirk pulled at my lips.

      He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm good. I didn't know you could kiss like that," he said casually before tucking a lock of his dark bangs behind his ear.

      "Frankly, I didn't either. What can I say? I guess I'm just a natural," I gloated, and he rolled his eyes, seemingly reverting to his more confident state.

      "Sure, whatever you say," he said before turning and beginning to walk toward the hallway. Even though he brushed it off, I took pride in the fact that I could make him so flustered.

      "I'm gonna put my shit in my room; are you coming?" he asked, looking at me over his shoulder. I jumped to life, springing toward him and following him to his room.

      "Your room is on the first floor?" I asked. He nodded even as he faced forward.

      "The second story is actually just an attic. But my uncle said he wouldn't be against finishing it and letting me move up there," he said.

      "That'd be cool," I replied. It dawned on me how much smaller Levi's house was compared to mine, but I didn't mention anything. The last thing I needed was to get drop kicked before finally getting to see his room.

      As my mind wandered to what it would potentially look like, how Levi-esque he would have had the chance to make it since moving in, he pushed the unblemished white door open.

      But as I followed him inside, my heart leapt to my throat at the sight of the astronomically large beast lying on his bed. "TenSoon, get down," Levi said sharply, snapping his fingers. "You know better." Immediately, the Irish Wolfhound lazily slid off the bed—which barely took him any effort, as he didn't even have to jump. He stood even taller than the bed did as he padded up to Levi and sniffed at him.

       "Fuck, I forgot he existed," I breathed.

      Levi turned to me quizzically. "You forgot that my two-hundred pound dog that pushed you to the floor existed?" he asked.

      "Cut me some slack, I barely remember what I had for breakfast yesterday," I whined, and he rolled his eyes as he pet TenSoon's snout. The dog kept eyeing me as Levi gave him the attention he wanted, round hazel eyes flicking in my direction every couple of seconds, as if bracing himself for any sudden movements. 

      "He's too sentient; it's scary," I muttered.

      Levi snorted as he pet his ears. "Are you sentient, TenSoon?" The dog stuck his tongue out mindlessly, but seconds later, his mouth came to a close. His friendly demeanor was quickly replaced by caution, a low growl rumbling through his throat as his eyes glued to mine.

      "No, we're having none of that, thank you. Out," Levi demanded, stepping from the door and patting the dog's back to encourage him.

      TenSoon turned and slowly stalked out of the room, albeit begrudgingly, as he looked back at us before leaving.

      “He hates me," I muttered.

      Levi sighed. "He doesn't. We just haven't had many people around, he's probably not used to it," he said. There was an odd tone to his voice, his mildly concerned gaze slightly turned away from me, piquing my curiosity.

      "Yeah, maybe," I said as he slid his backpack off and set it by his desk. Right, we were in his room now. I finally allowed myself a moment to look around. The walls were of a dark, cool-toned gray. On them seemed to be several pieces of writing, perhaps poems—I wasn't sure if he had written them or not, but all of them matched one another with sleek black frames.

      A framed poster of The Great Gatspy also hung above his desk, but those were all he had seemed to decorate the walls with so far. Considering they were already framed, he must have brought them from Mitras. The floors were of the same polished wood that ran throughout the house, but a large, fluffy, gray carpet adorned the center. It almost looked like TenSoon's fur, funnily enough. His queen sized bedding was a light gray—his comforter looked like the biggest thing on earth as it dramatically hung over the sides. He had four large pillows at the head of it—one was silk—as well as a large Squishmallow that looked like a seal.

      A black dresser was pressed against the adjacent wall next to a closet. He also had a connected bathroom, which I could see from here as the door had been left open. There were still a couple of unpacked boxes pushed into one corner, which didn't surprise me considering it had only been a few weeks since they moved in.

      "Your room is nice," I commented as I sauntered over to the bed.

      "Thank—Eren, don't you dare get on my bed. You're filthy." I halted just before I had sat down, sheepishly pursing my lips as I met his piercing glare from where he stood at his desk.

       I had almost forgotten I was covered in dirt and dust. Particularly my ass, since I had fallen flat on the earth. "My bad... do you want me to wash up?" I asked, rubbing the back of my neck.

      He shot me a deadpanned expression. "No, I want you to roll around on the floor covered in shit. Of course I want you to wash up. You can use my bathroom."

      I rolled my eyes, but stood up straight and stretched my arms over my head with a groan. When I lowered them, I caught Levi sneaking a gaze at my midsection. I smirked, but didn't comment, following him to the bathroom once he turned and pushed the door open.

      It was fairly sizable despite not being a master bathroom. The shower had a large glass door with white tile lining the walls, and the rest of the room was a soft light blue with white accents.

      I hopped onto the counter as Levi prepared the shower—he shot me a glare from the corner of his eye, but didn't comment. "You can use my shampoo and conditioner. I'll get you a washcloth as well if you want one."

      "What about clothes?" I asked. There was no way I could possibly fit into anything in his wardrobe with how minuscule he was.

      He slid his bottom lip between his teeth, eyeing me up and down. "I have a couple of oversized stuff that might fit you," he said. I raised a doubtful eyebrow, but shrugged nevertheless. He moved to a closet beside the shower and opened it, pulling out two small white washcloths. He turned to me as I slightly swung my legs back and forth, and I watched him curiously as he slowly came toward me until he stood between my legs.

      He reached behind me and turned on the sink, and he returned with one of the washcloths damp as he held it in his hand. He used his free hand to brush a few stray locks of hair from my face, and a rush of tingles rose on my neck and spine as the cloth came in contact with my skin. "What are you doing? I'm about to shower," I mumbled, but I couldn't deny how good it felt, especially when his delicate fingers would gently graze me.

      "Your face is dirty. If I do this, you won't miss a spot in the shower," he said quietly, glancing into my eyes with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. I refrained from telling him the water would simply wash away anything I didn't scrub off, but there was no way I was going to risk making him stop when he was so close to me.

      I slid my hands to his sides, sighing at the feeling of his thin frame beneath my fingers. He slid the washcloth to my cheek, moving meticulously over my skin before tilting his head. "So, do you want to talk about why you ran away from your dad's clinic?"

      I wasn't sure if he could feel me tense up as soon as he asked the question, but if the look he gave me was anything to go by, he knew it was at least an uncomfortable topic. It dawned on me that he had used wiping off my face as an excuse to try talking to me about it, and I was surprised by how manipulative of a tactic it was.

      Even so, I tried to think of something believable as he continued cleaning my face. I couldn't really say "I passed out after reading too many minds and got overwhelmed"—something told me that wouldn't hit it off too well.

      "I got into a fight with my parents," I said instead. It was almost true; I wouldn't have really considered it a fight, because god knows we'd been in actual fights before, but I did get pissed at them.

      Levi moved the washcloth down to my chin, humming, but he didn't look at all put-off by what I'd said. "Does that happen often, then? You mentioned you guys were doing well," he said softly. There wasn't an inkling of judgement to his tone, and that comforted me more than I had anticipated.

      "Um, kind of, yeah. My relationship with my parents is weird. I'm not super close with my dad and my mom still treats me like a child. She doesn't really... get me. I don't know—I know that sounds stupid, everyone says that kind of stuff about their parents." I clamped my mouth shut when I found myself rambling. I hadn't had the opportunity to talk about my parents with anyone in years. When I used to go to therapy, he would try to get me to open up about our problems, but I couldn't without feeling like I was withholding the root of my issues and wasting my time. At least with Levi, the surface truth would do. He wasn’t here to fix me, after all.

      He shook his head, removing the cloth from my skin, and bringing his hands down against the counter on either side of me. "No, that’s not stupid. I know what that's like," he replied sincerely.

      "Your uncle does seem pretty protective," I muttered.

      Levi scoffed. "That's the understatement of the century. I used to hardly be able to leave the house without him having to know my every move. And we seem like polar opposites, but we’re more similar than I’d like to admit. We butt heads all the time," he said.

      I appreciated him trying to relate to me, but I doubted he had screaming matches with his uncle at the top of his lungs before making the room explode. Shame crept onto me as I looked down between my legs, but Levi lifted his finger and brushed my hair to the side again.

      "Parents can make us feel shitty sometimes, but they don't define us as individuals. They dig up dirty emotions, but we're powerful enough to overcome them," he told me. I felt myself relax as my lips parted slightly, soaking in his encouraging words, and a gentle smile lifted the corners of my mouth. He replied by lifting himself up on his toes and placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

      My heart soared as if it had taken off with fighter jets, flipping through my chest before making a crash landing in my stomach. It was a feeling I wished I could bottle and keep safe for the rest of my life.

      "Alright, take a shower. But I have to clean off this counter after you smeared your dirty ass all over it." He stepped back after patting my thigh, gesturing for me to hop down. My feet landed on the floor with ease, and I waited until Levi was finished wiping down the counter before turning to the shower and opening the glass door.

      "I'll have clothes ready for you by the time you're done, just let me know when you’re ready to have them," he said.

      "Aye, aye, captain," I said with a wink, and he rolled his eyes before shoving the unused washcloth into my hands and heading for the door.

༄༄࿐

      The bathroom was caked with steam by the time my shower was finished. There was something about showering in someone else's bathroom that sometimes just felt better than your own. Levi's shampoo and conditioner smelled like him, and during my time in there I found myself taking a couple more huffs than I wanted to admit before I had lathered my hair with it.

       I grabbed one of the spare towels from the hanging shelf beside his fogged-up mirror, ruffling my hair and patting my face and torso down before wrapping it around my waist.

       "Levi, I'm ready," I called. I wasn't sure if he was even still in his bedroom, but seconds later I began to hear footsteps near the bathroom.

       "You better not be fucking naked in there," he said from the other side of the door.

      I laughed. "Of course I'm naked, I don't have any clean clothes," I teased.

      He groaned, grumbling "you know what I meant," before twisting the door open.

      He came face-to-face with my bare chest, and I watched his jaw grow taut as he glued his eyes to my damp skin. Redness climbed up his cheeks as I smirked, and he finally tore his gaze away to glare up at me before shoving a few items of clothing into my arms and slamming the door in my face.

      Realizing that was the first time he had seen me without a shirt, as the row of lockers always divided us while changing in gym class, I took pride in his reaction as I sauntered over to the mirror.

      I started unfolding the clothes he had given me, noticing the shirt was extra large and long-sleeved. It had to have absolutely drowned him with how big it was, but it would only be a bit bigger on me than what I usually wore. I threw it on, realizing how comfortable and soft the fabric felt against my skin. I rubbed my arms for a moment, enjoying the texture, then grabbed the basic pair of boxer briefs tucked in the middle of the pile.

      Before putting them on, I took a moment to look over what was on the counter that I hadn't paid any attention to before. There were various items organized on both sides of it, and while I didn't recognize all of it by name, there seemed to be some kind of facial cleanser, moisturizer, color corrector, fragrance mist, and a few other bottles that I couldn't read the labels of. One even seemed to be in Korean. Lastly, a small cup held a pair of tweezers, scissors, a brush, and a pink marble object that would have looked suspiciously like a vibrator if it didn’t have a roller on the end of it.

      It dawned on me how much Levi seemed to take care of himself—his skin, especially. It shouldn't have come off as a surprise, his complexion practically glowed and he always looked flawless, but I guess I wasn't expecting to see the contents of his effort laid out directly in front of me.

      Deciding to hurry it up, I pulled on the briefs. The pants he had given me were black joggers, a bit longer than I had expected and bigger around the waist than Levi could ever hope to fit, and I raised an eyebrow as I held them up. There would have been absolutely no reason for Levi to own these. 

      "Are these pants even yours?" I called through the door.

      It took him a few seconds to respond. "Just put them on!"

      Well, that's certainly reassuring.

      I sighed, putting them on anyway. If I was killed later, at least I knew I'd be haunting Levi in the afterlife.

      Once fully dressed, I tucked my phone into my pocket, grabbed my dirty clothes in a messy pile, opened the door, and stepped out. Levi met my eyes from his bed before looking me up and down, nodding in satisfaction.

      He slid off the bed and stood up, holding both of his hands out. "Here, give me those," he said, and I looked down at my dirty clothes before passing them over to him. He walked to his closet and pulled open the door, rummaging inside before stepping back with a bag in his hand. He put the clothes inside of it before setting it down beside his bed. Always so meticulous. I wanted to smile at the thought, and at the same time, I wanted to tease him for it.

      Instead, I pushed my hands into the pockets of the joggers, wiggling my bare toes. "My dogs are out. Can I get some socks, too?" Levi snorted before going to his dresser, pulling out a black pair of socks before tossing them to me. I slipped them on before he crossed his arms over his chest.

      "Do you want to go over homework first and then watch a movie?" he asked. As if on queue, I suddenly felt the despairing ache of my stomach caving in on itself, crying desperately for sustenance.

      "I could really fucking eat right now, actually," I said, realizing I hadn't eaten since breakfast.

      Levi rolled his eyes, but nodded toward the door. "Come on, let's feed you, then. My uncle made Coq a Vin last night."

      As I followed him into the hallway, I raised an eyebrow. "Cock-a-what-now?" I asked quizzically.

      Levi scoffed. "Coq a Vin," he accentuated, as if I'd magically understand what he had said the second time around. "It's French. It's predominantly just a fancier chicken stew with vegetables—don't worry, it's good," he explained.

      "I'll literally eat anything your uncle makes. I think I came at the dinner table when I had his casserole," I said, and Levi glanced back at me with an amusedly disgusted expression. "I'm serious," I said with a laugh.

      He shrugged as we headed into the kitchen. "His cooking is good, I've just had it my entire life. But your mom's brownies are fucking immaculate—we devoured them in less than a day," he said, and I chuckled.

      "Do you think we could conduct an experiment where we combine them into one super-cook who makes incredible food and deserts?" I asked, laughing harder as I pictured a fucked-up version of Kenny and my mom merged as one person.

     "That's actually repulsive to think about, but it might be worth it for good food," he said as he opened the fridge.

      "That's what I'm saying," I said as I sat down at the island. He pulled out a large container with thick, dark brown contents in it, but I knew it probably tasted much more appetizing than it looked.

      As I watched him pull out a pot and begin to heat the leftovers over the stove with his back turned to me, I realized how domestic this looked. Him cooking over the stove while I waited in the kitchen for him to be finished. Even though he was just heating up leftovers, the insinuation behind it made my bones feel weightless. My throat suddenly felt like a bag of sand, brain short-circuiting as I could do nothing but stare. He looked so absorbed as he added a splash of water to the thickened stew, stirring it around with a wooden spoon. A trembling sensation in my heart caused me to swallow in an attempt to find purchase.

      "I can feel you staring," he said knowingly, resting the spoon against the handle of the pot before turning to me and leaning against the stove. He looked bored, head tilting to the side as he met my eyes, but the fondness I could see within them reminded me that his monotonous expression did nothing to hide his true emotions.

      "I plead the fifth," I said with a smirk, propping my elbow up and resting my cheek on my hand. He huffed, giving me a lazy, downturned smile before walking back to the fridge. He opened it, bending over to examine what was inside. I eyed his ass as it stuck out, finding myself no better than he was when I came out of the shower.

      I slid my tongue over my bottom lip, feeling heat stirring in my gut before he rose with a bottle of orange juice in his hand. "This is all we have to drink besides water."

      Suddenly, my mouth was very dry. "That's fine, I'll have some." He poured me a glass before pouring one for himself, setting both on the island, then resumed stirring the stew until it was finished heating through.

      He served us both a bowl before sitting with me at the island. The smell that emitted with the steam and curled through my nose made my mouth instantly water, a stark contrast to how cotton-like it was before. "Mmm," I said with anticipation, grabbing my spoon and digging in to the thick stew. The chicken was so tender it practically fell off the bone, which made portioning it easier as I gathered various ingredients onto my spoon.

      When it hit my tongue, despite being hot, the flavors that flooded my tastebuds could have brought me to tears. "Oly sh't, dis is so gurd," I said with my mouth full.

      Levi rolled his eyes. "You're gonna choke, idiot," he said before taking his own smaller bite.

      "I don' car," I replied before spooning another mouthful. Levi shook his head, smirking as he quietly ate. I wolfed down the food in mere minutes, and Levi's was only about a third of the way finished by the time my bowl was empty and my orange juice was gulped down.

      "Do you want more?" he asked as he stood up, grabbing my bowl.

      "Yes please," I said, and he smirked before bringing my bowl to the pot and filling it with seconds.

      I was able to take it slower the second time around, allowing myself to truly enjoy the mingling flavors as he sat back down and continued eating.

      "Do you guys have any plans for Thanksgiving?" I asked, remembering it was in a couple of weeks.

      He shook his head. "Not really. My uncle normally just cooks for us at home. We don't do anything special. What about you?"

      It quickly sank in that Levi didn't seem to have any family other than his uncle. I felt the urge to ask, but I didn't want to potentially ruin his mood. "I don't know what we're doing, it kind of changes every year. I bet I can ask my mom if you and your uncle can come over and spend it with us," I said.

      Levi shook his head. "A chance for my uncle to see your mom again? I doubt he'll pass that up. I'll talk to him," he said.

      "Dear god, I forgot he had a thing for her," I said. I wanted to shiver at the thought.

      We chatted for a bit longer before I finished my second bowl. Once again, like clockwork, he stood up. "Still hungry?" he asked.

      I patted my stomach, fully stuffed. "Nope, that was perfect. Thank you."

      My heart beat quicker as I watched him bring my bowl to the sink to clean it. "Are you going to keep eating?" I asked.

      Levi nodded. "Yeah, I'll eat while we watch a movie. Go ahead and go into the living room, I'll meet you there," he said. 

      I shrugged, sliding off the stool and giving him one more look over my shoulder before sauntering off into the living room. I had only caught a glimpse of it when I first visited with my parents, but the space was quite massive. About the size of my own, and looked straight out of a magazine. Their L-shaped couch matched the walls with its gray color, and a black coffee table sat in the center atop a marble-patterned carpet. A leather recliner was at one end of the living room by a mantle, a small table resting beside it. They had a large TV mounted above an electric fireplace, and a couple of indoor plants had already found homes in the corners. The boxes had dwindled in amount compared to what I'd last seen, but two sill sat alone, untouched.

      One thing that stood out, however, was the giant dog lying on one end of the couch, who stared up at me with eyes that I swore reeked of judgment. I rounded the couch and neared TenSoon, sitting down beside him. He eyed me as if I was intruding his space, and I leaned back as I crossed my arms over my chest.

      "What's your deal, hm?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and watching his tail flick against the couch by my thigh.

      He huffed, running his tongue over his nose before resting his head on his front paws and looking up at me with big eyes. "Nuh-uh, you don't get to look all cute and pouty now," I said, uncrossing my arms to drape one over the back of the couch. A quiet whine escaped him, his droopy ears pushed back. I rolled my eyes, resting my head on my shoulder as I twisted myself to face him.

      "I wish I could read your mind..." I muttered. His round, hazel eyes suddenly moved to the right, and my heart practically leapt into my throat when Levi circled the couch without so much as making a sound.

      "I do too, sometimes. Who knows what this mutt is thinking," he said. My heart anxiously thumped in my chest, and for a moment, I had forgotten that wanting to read minds wasn't totally out of the ordinary. Everyone wanted superpowers, whether it be reading minds, teleporting, flying—only mine had been specifically related to animals.

      "Yeah, it'd be cool," I said casually, pretending like I wasn't just about to shit my pants.

      "Down," Levi told TenSoon, who slid off the couch and onto the floor like a massive, gray, furry landslide. Levi tsked as he wiped at the stray fur the dog had left behind, sitting down with his bowl of stew when he deemed it clean enough.

      I eyed the space between us, deciding to remain complacent for now. "What do you want to watch?" he asked, poking at his stew with his spoon. I leaned my head back, staring at the ceiling and humming dramatically. Levi leaned forward, reaching for the coffee table and grabbing the remote controller.

      Surprisingly, an idea came to mind, and I grinned. "Have you ever seen The 40-Year-Old Virgin?" I asked, and Levi raised an eyebrow as he turned on the TV.

      "No. That sounds dumb," he replied.

      I chuckled. "It's so fucking funny. It has Steve Carell and a bunch of other big names in it. Come on, give it a chance, I haven't seen it in years," I insisted.

      He sighed. "Fine. But it better actually be funny or you're banned from ever picking a movie ever again," he said.

      "Trust me, it is. Plus, you need to watch a comedy every once in a while—get those smile lines activated," I teased.

      Levi rolled his eyes. "I'd rather die than get smile lines," he muttered.

      I snorted. "Jesus. They're part of life, y'know?" I said, but he ignored me.

      "What's the movie on?" he asked instead.

      I raised an eyebrow at him curiously, but moved on. "Uh... I forgot. Lemme look it up," I said, pulling out my phone from my pocket. He idly held the controller in his hand as I searched up the movie, then lowered my phone to my lap. "Prime," I said, and he clicked a button on the remote that automatically opened the Amazon app on the TV. It didn't take long for him to find the movie, and he set down the remote on the coffee table after pressing play.

      He continued to eat as the old ass Universal Studios intro began, his legs pulled up on the couch and his bowl of stew tucked between his knees and chest. He looked adorable sitting there, small enough to cuddle up against the corner of the couch where the two sides met to make the L-shape.

      I wanted to scoop him up like a little baby and hold him in my arms, but I knew I'd probably get punched if I tried to do that while he was eating. So, I had to withhold my urges, opting for shuffling closer and acting as casual as possible.

      I snorted when the main character, who Steve Carell played, walked out of his bedroom with an erection, and Levi rolled his eyes with a scoff.

      "Hey, it be like that sometimes," I said casually.

      Levi smirked. "Is that so?"

      "Are you telling me you've never had random morning wood?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest as doubt reeked from my expression.

      "Wouldn't you like to know?" he teased before pushing a spoonful of stew into his mouth.

      "Touché," I said with a chuckle before turning back to the screen.

      When the scene of the main cast of guys talking about sex and girls began, Levi spoke up. "Is this what straight guys talk about?" he asked with an air of disgust.

      "I wouldn't know," I said with a shrug.

      Levi huffed a laugh. "Of course you wouldn't," he said.

      A few minutes after the first love interest was introduced, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I raised an eyebrow to myself, pulling it out. I groaned when I read the notification, tempted to ignore it, but knowing I would only land in deeper shit.

🧙: Eren. Where are you?

levi’s house

???????

      I decided not to respond to my mom after that—I wasn’t sure what was confusing about what I’d said. I pocketed my phone, ignoring the two buzzes afterward. 

      About a quarter into the movie, I was getting antsy. We were at the stage where I was starting to remember parts I had already seen after my first time watching it, and all I wanted to focus on was Levi. He finished his stew, leaning forward and placing it on the coffee table before resting back on the couch. TenSoon sat by him on the floor, resting his giant head on Levi's feet as Levi absentmindedly stroked the back of his ears. He was a lot more focused on the movie than I was, and even though he didn't laugh as much as I did, the glimmer of amusement I could see twinkling in his eyes as they reflected the TV told me he was enjoying himself.

      It was a relief to see that he wasn't miserable, even with the shitty and cringey jokes the movie made that he either smirked or rolled his eyes at.

      Could he feel me staring at him like he always claimed to? He seemed so engrossed in the movie, he didn't even glance at me even as I looked at him for several seconds at a time.

      I scooted closer, throwing my arm over the back of the couch again. I tried to glue my eyes to the movie, but I zoned out every minute until all I could do was drag them to his curled-up form all over again.  

      "If you want to cuddle, just say something. Confidence is sexy, you know."

      My heart dropped to my stomach after he spoke, but I couldn't help the giddy smile that stretched across my lips. Like a lazy cat, I rolled over on the couch, spinning against the back cushions until I met Levi's side at the corner. "So needy," he mumbled, but the teasing air to his tone made it clear he didn't mind.

      TenSoon huffed and laid down when I opened my arms up and scooped Levi against my chest. He flopped against me without any resistance, his soft hair caressing the skin of my neck. I rested my head atop his and we slouched against the couch together, practically molded as one.

      And god, it was perfect. He was like the puzzle piece that I had been missing, finally found after combing through the box my entire life.

      I was still getting used to physical affection with him—forget hugs from my parents, I couldn't remember the last time they had put their arms around me. It was almost scary how utterly raw and vulnerable holding him made me feel, as if my chest was an open wound, even if he was the one in my arms.

      But I welcomed that fear that bubbled up in my gut with equally as tight of an embrace, for it allowed my heart to feel. The breath of life he gave me was like being reborn all over again, and if I could feel this way even after death, it would be the best afterlife I could have hoped for.

      "You're so warm," he muttered, cuddling further into me. I sucked in a breath and squeezed him tighter. He was so small as he slotted into the space between my arms. Even merging into one wouldn't have made us close enough. I felt like the only way there was any possible chance of being satisfied was to intertwine the structure of our very DNA.

      We remained like that for more than half of the movie, and as he would chuckle quietly at a joke or when I would burst out laughing, I could feel the vibrations move through my chest or shaking us as one.

      Levi started getting very invested in the relationship aspect of the story, rooting for the main characters while getting pissed at anything that stood in their way. "He's such a fucking idiot," he would say when the main character would make a stupid decision—which happened many times. "He better not fuck her," he said when another woman started trying to get in his pants instead of the main love interest.

      You're so cute, I almost said, but I was so graciously reminded of his hatred for the term. "What was it you wanted me to call you? Perfect in… every conceivable way?" I asked, and I leaned my head back to watch him turn and look up at me.

      "I mean, that's a start," he said, and I grinned before reaching a hand up and cupping the side of his jaw. He twisted his body to face me better, and with the movie fading into a muffled blur in the background, our lips pressed together.

      I climbed my hand up to the back of his hair, tangling my fingers in his dark tresses. My other hand held his side against me as we kissed, feeling the ever-so-slight definition of his ribs under his sweater.

      At first, the caressing of our lips was slow, even casual. But when Levi lifted an arm to wrap around my neck, the other sliding up my left pec, things began to pick up. He ran his tongue over my bottom lip, and I let out a sigh I didn't think would tremble as much as it did, parting my mouth to join with his.

      Our tongues danced a delicate rhythm, pushing and pulling with one another in synch. I hadn't French-kissed anyone in years, and I had half a mind to wonder if I was even doing it right. But the other half was a loud buzz of passion and satisfaction, drowning out every other worry that could have tainted such a perfect moment.

      He pulled away, looking into my eyes as potent breaths parted his glistening lips. "Your heart is beating so fast," he whispered, spreading his fingers that rested over my left pec and searching my face with sterling silver.

      He wasn't wrong. I could feel each thump of my pulse shake me, pumping blood through my veins with the power of a stampede. I swallowed thickly. "I guess it is," I whispered back, and the fondness in Levi's eyes was like molten, poured out through his lips and into mine as they pressed together again.

      It filled me with an undying relief that I didn't have to read Levi's mind to know how he felt during this very moment. While part of me would always wonder what hidden thoughts he stowed away as we shared such an intimate embrace, the way he gazed into my eyes screamed such emotion that could only be felt through the heart, and the way he kissed me with such fervor and attention was proof enough that nothing was clouding his brain in an attempt to reel him away.

      The movie was long forgotten as we made out on the couch. Touches didn't go any further than hips and thighs, which I was entirely okay with. Heat did threaten to collect in my groin each time our tongues dove deeper into one another, but I beat it down with a stern voice as I held Levi tight. This was it—this was what going slow was, right?

      However, such perfect moments were never fabricated to last forever. That fact reigned true upon the jingling of keys that could faintly be heard in the background behind the movie's volume. We simultaneously pulled away, and I watched Levi's expression pinch in frustration as we heard the front door shut. TenSoon poked his head above the couch, turning it in the direction of the hallway.

      I tensed, but neither of us made an effort to untangle ourselves. The only reason I hadn't moved was because Levi hadn't, and, well, if he had the balls to confront his uncle in such a compromising position, who was I to betray him?

      I had second thoughts when I laid sight on Kenny's expression as he walked into the room. His bewildered stare flicked from us, to the movie, then back to us, a dark fire behind his eyes so formidable it looked as if it could burn down an entire forest.

      "You're home earlier than you said you'd be," Levi said with an irked tone, still cuddled up in my arms as he looked at Kenny past my shoulder. I couldn't look at the man anymore without fearing that I'd burst into flames, so I settled for sheepishly looking at the couch cushion instead.

      I could practically feel Kenny's disapproval of this reeking from him, but he responded nonetheless. "The meeting went quicker than I expected." I saw movement out of my peripheral, and, fearing for my life, I glanced up. Kenny had lifted an arm and was staring at the watch on his wrist. "And would you look at the time? My arrival seemed to perfectly line up with Eren's departure."

      I took that as the loudest "get the fuck out" I would ever get without the words physically being said, and quickly removed myself from Levi before standing up from the couch.

      Kenny eyed me up and down before his quicksilver eyes bulged. "Are those my fuckin' pants?" he asked, and my heart dropped to the lowest pits of my gut as I looked down at myself, before shooting a tense stare at Levi.

      "Stop being dramatic, Eren needed a change of clothes. I'll get them back to you," Levi said, as if he hadn't just brushed off the highest breach of boundaries I could have managed to do on my first time over at his house alone.

      Kenny scowled, looking as if he was going to tear them off of my body himself. "Alright, time to go," he growled, and I rounded the couch after almost tripping over TenSoon.

      "My god, if you're going to do this at least let me get his shit from my room," Levi snapped, shooting from the couch and stomping from the room.

      Dear god, Levi just left me alone with Kenny after the worst choice of words he could have used. Now he probably thinks I fucked his nephew and wore his pants without remorse. Did Levi intend on coming back to me dead?

      Kenny crossed his arms over his chest, and it was then I realized how built he was. I knew I was powerful. I could read minds, I had put out a fire, hell, I moved a fucking car today. But in the face of Kenny Ackerman's vehement stare, I had never felt weaker.

      Nothing I could say would make this situation any better. Despite the thick silence that lasted the entire time we were by ourselves, I could feel every degrading word he threw at me just by his expression alone. When Levi returned with my bag of dirty clothes, he glared up at his uncle with a look almost just as terrifying.

      "Here," Levi said, handing me the bag.

      "Thanks," I replied. He looked up at me apologetically, but I gave him a small smile in return to reassure him.

      "I'll show you to the door, Eren," Kenny said, patting my shoulder. The concealed aggression in his calloused hand soaked through my skin.

     "Seriously?" Levi said exasperatedly, and Kenny held an innocent hand up.

      "Just my job as a polite host," he said, and I cringed as he waited for me to head for the door.

      My legs resembled stiff bark as I walked like a lego man to the entryway. I was prepared to yank it open and dash out of there as quickly as I could, but Kenny seemed to have other plans as he placed another firm hand on my shoulder.

      His fingers dug into me as I turned around to face him. His glower had the power of one-thousand suns as he stared me down. He leaned in close, only a few inches of space existing between us. I swallowed as his threatening aura seeped into my skin. If this was my own dad, I would have no issue shoving him off. But this was Kenny—this was Levi's uncle, the man that stood between me and happiness.

      Then, he spoke. The quietness of his voice did absolutely nothing to quell the dark, menacing tone it left him with.

      "Don't break his heart, or I'll fuckin' grab you by the nape of your goddamn neck and drag you back to whatever sniveling hole you crawled out from."

      "Yes, sir," was all I could muster myself to croak. Then, he smiled—a nightmarish, wicked smile, reaching past me and opening the door.

      "See you next time, Eren," he said, the switch-up of his chipper tone causing a whiplash to shoot through my brain. 

      All I could do was turn, blink at the waning light from the late afternoon sun, and step out of the house like a robot. The door was shut behind me, and when I was left alone outside, sentenced to a short walk home, it dawned on me how absolutely absurd that entire interaction was.

      "What the fuck?" I whispered to myself before treading down the porch stairs and onto the sidewalk. I groaned when my head began to ache, realizing the pain killers from earlier were starting to wear off.

༄༄࿐

Levi

      “You’re the absolute worst, you know,” I snapped. The audacity my uncle had to smirk at me as he headed back into the living room was baffling.

       “You should have seen the look on that poor kid’s face,” he said, amused,

      I scoffed. “Maybe because you looked like you were going to wring his neck and leave him to die on the floor.”

      He let out a dry, hollow laugh, but it quickly died in the air. He crossed his arms over his chest, his hair falling around his eyes. His demeanor soon dropped into something despondent, shifting his weight to one leg as he cocked his head to look down at me.

      “Levi… do you really think this is a good idea?” he asked through a vexed frown.

      “This again? Really? When are you going to understand that who I date is my business and my choice?” I proclaimed, frustration boiling in my veins at the redundancy of our repeated conversation.

      He sighed. “I’m just saying. You barely know this kid. You’re not being careful. Isn’t this the very same reason we picked up everything and left that shitty town? I don’t want to see you repeat the same damn mistake you’ve made before,” he snapped.

      I faltered, taken aback by his indignity. My lips parted by their own volition as heated shame flushed my cheeks and ears. Kenny sighed at the sight, drawing himself back upon the thick silence that followed. “Levi—”

      “Eren’s not a mistake.” I didn’t give him a chance to spew whatever he was going to say to recover from the step he’d taken. I kept my voice stolid, too afraid that expressing emotion would cause my throat to clog.

      Regret flashed through his eyes. “That’s the same thing your mo—”

      He quickly cut himself off, but the damage had already been done, and my shoulders sagged as I squinted my eyes at him in disbelief.

      “My what?” I urged him to finish with a bitter tone, but he pursed his lips, drawing silent. I already knew what he had been close to saying, but if he was going to start something so utterly uncalled for, the least he could do was have the guts to finish it.

      But he said nothing. “That’s what I thought. Don’t bring up memories you’re too afraid to confront,” I snapped, turning around and leaving the room.

      “Leviiii,” he drawled after me, but I ignored him, stomping through the hall with rigid feet and fists clenched by my side.

      I pushed open my bedroom door, feeling heat seer behind my eyes. With it, mist threatened to collect at my waterline, but I cast it away with a firm huff and a harsh blink. I wouldn’t let the shit that tarnished my history and a few low-balled words make me cry. I was more resilient than that—I always had been.

      I shut my door behind me and flopped over onto my bed, bringing the back of hand to my forehead. I forced myself to inhale a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs and evaporate the acridity in my heart.

      There was no other person who had made me feel as Eren did in such a short amount of time. Eren wanted me. He wanted me. He held me with such yearning, the aspiration in his heart just to see me as clear as the glint in his eyes when he smiled.

      How could that be a mistake?

      I sighed, getting up and forcing myself to walk to my desk. I opened my drawer, grabbing my notebook and a pen before shutting it and shuffling back over to the bed.

      I piled my pillows against the wall behind me, making my Squishmallow the earthwork of the fortress. I sat back against them and opened the notebook, floating through the countless poems I had already written before landing on a new, blank page.

      The emotion that gripped me was fierce, and though how I felt was almost ineffable, the only way my brain knew how to subsist it was to pour it out through the pen in my hand. Fire coated the ink as it spread onto the paper, leaving a burnt passion in its wake. I didn’t stop writing until every fathomable thought had been formed into poesy.

It cannot be — I am told,

the ashes of my hope scattered by my feet.

It shan’t be — the Universe denies,

yet equanimity is of the green gem she gifted.

Foreboding whispers of our demise claw at my skin;

the only voice of desolate defeat.

Yet your arms as they hold me shout promise,

treasure that gathers gray and breathes it new life.

A Phoenix you call me,

bright; unsheathed,

a fiery roar of rebirth and rejoice.

It shall be — I told my green gem,

for you are cherished.

You are the emerald fire which blew my ashes

to the sun that reignited my flame.

Chapter Text

Thanksgiving

༄༄࿐

Eren

      Almost two weeks passed in the blink of an eye, and Thanksgiving was right around the corner. Grocery stores were packed as people did their last minute shopping, which meant work was hell—especially on weekends.

      "I didn't sign up for this," Ayanne groaned after checking out what felt like the eightieth turkey today. We were one of the only stores still carrying an abundance of them.

      "Technically, you did," I replied, leaning against her post as I had just gone on break. I was acting unbothered, my arms crossed over my chest, but I had just gotten my ass handed to me by endless customers for two hours straight.

      "Whatever, smartass. Go suck a your new boyfriend's dick, or something," she snapped, and I rolled my eyes before uncrossing my arms and heading for the break room.

  "I wish," I muttered under my breath.

      As I had prepared myself for, Levi and I were continuing to take it slow. Make-out sessions between classes and at the park after school, movies or homework at his house that couldn't escalate with Kenny constantly looming over my shoulder, teasing touches every now and then when the opportunity presented itself. I wasn't sure when things were going to pick up between us, but there was one unspoken issue remaining.

      He was still seventeen.

      Now, it wasn't like I was some creep in my late years of college dating someone who was still in high-school. A two-year age gap wasn't the end of the world, but something was telling me to wait before having sex with him. I hadn't yet told him that, and I wasn't sure when I would.

      It hadn’t been as important to me when I lost my virginity or had slept with that girl after homecoming. All of them had been younger than me, so I wasn't sure why I cared now. Maybe it was because I was older—or maybe I wanted to see if he was capable of waiting until then.

      That didn't mean we couldn't do other stuff before then, but going all the way might have to wait. The good news was, his birthday was only a month away. Christmas, actually, because of course his birthday was on Christmas—why wouldn't it be?

      That only meant I had to figure out what the fuck to get him to make up for two celebrations.

      I had refrained from taking him over to my place as often as I could, because I would much rather deal with an overbearing uncle than the mess that was my two parents trying to wrap their head around me becoming close with someone again. Levi didn't seem to mind, but I could tell he was growing increasingly curious to know just what the issue with my parents was.

      Where would I even begin?

      Unfortunately, with Thanksgiving right around the corner and the promise to ask my parents if he and his uncle could attend—which I kept forgetting to do—I had a feeling he'd get a solid dose of my fucked-up family soon enough.

      I tossed a water bottle up into the air as I passed the frozen meat isle, but as I absentmindedly looked down it, I had to do a double take. Standing at the end of the isle, browsing while holding a basket, was Jean Kirstein.

      Now, normally, I wouldn't have thought twice about it—he lived in the same city, after all—but Jean hadn't been to school in two weeks. No one knew what had happened to him or if he was even coming back. Connie had even told Reiner in the locker rooms that he hadn't so much as heard from him since his outburst. Countless rumors had been floating around that he died, was sent to prison—or a psych ward—but no one knew for sure, and at the end of the day, it was all petty gossip.

      But I may have just been the first to witness Jean leaving the house since he'd last been seen. I raised an eyebrow, slowing my pace and lingering by the entrance to the break room with my water bottle hanging in my hand. Looking him up and down, I noticed nothing really stood out about his appearance. He seemed normal, but he looked almost empty, a sad veil over his eyes.

      He must have sensed someone was watching him, as he curiously looked up. As soon as he did, his eyes landed on me, and his expression hardened.

      I didn't stick around to hear anything he might have had to say or even try to read his mind, pushing open the door to the break room and quickly heading inside.

      I lifted my thumb to my lips, nibbling on my nail. Why had that made me so uncomfortable? Even the feeling of him catching me staring had almost sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't believe Levi still wanted me to befriend him. I was sure that had flown out of the window ever since he mysteriously disappeared, but now, I wasn't so sure.

       As I headed for the fridge at the corner of the room, I pulled out my phone, opening my text messages and clicking on Levi’s contact.

you'll never guess who i just saw at work

Who?

jean

Seriously? So he is alive.

ig so. he seemed fine?

well idk he looked sad

Weird...

You should try talking to him

lol. you wish 

he'd probably shoot me

Don't say that.

jkjk

Mhm. Sure

      I smiled, pocketing my phone. I only had fifteen minutes to eat, so I had to make it count. My lunch was a ham and cheese sandwich with a bag of barbecue potato chips. I munched them down alongside a can of Dr. Pepper, ignoring the constant movement and chatter outside. Fifteen minutes of peace wouldn't make up for the endless chaos that was half of my shift, but it would at least give me the chance to recover and mentally prepare for the second half.

      Luckily, things began to move fairly slower after I returned to work, and the rest of my shift was a breeze. Ayanne had left an hour ago, so it was only myself and the depressing self check-out stations at the registers. When the clock finally hit three PM, I practically dashed out of the store, ready to go home and see if Levi wanted to spend time together over the weekend.

      As I walked home—my mom needed the car for mysterious errands—instead of texting him, I pressed the FaceTime button on his contact and held my phone out in front of me.

      It took a few seconds for him to answer, but soon enough, my face was squished in the corner of my screen, replaced with the much preferred—albeit slightly pixelated—face of my lovely boyfriend.

      "Hey," I said, smiling down at my phone.

      The corners of his lips curled up slightly. "Hey. How was your shift?" he asked before pulling a straw into his mouth. I eyed the minimal amount of his surroundings I could see through the camera, realizing they definitely weren't the walls of his house.

      "Busy as fuck. Where are you?" I asked curiously.

      He lifted his lips from the straw, swallowing. "The cat café," he replied.

      I raised my eyebrows. "Ohh. By yourself?" I asked confusedly.

      He smirked, wearily rolling his eyes. "I'm allowed to go places on my own, you know," he said.

      I frowned. "I know, I know. I would have loved to take you after my shift, though," I replied.

      Levi tilted his head, smiling slightly before resting his chin on his hand. He seemed to be sitting on a wide chair with a plush cushion behind him. "I followed the café on Instagram and saw that Midnight was still up for adoption, so I came to visit her. The volunteer told me she's been running and hiding from everyone, so no one has been interested in her," he explained.

      "Ahh," I began, nodding. "Is she hiding from you, too, then?" I glanced up when I reached a stop sign, looking both ways before crossing the street. Levi waited until I looked at my phone again before smirking. Then, he moved his phone further away from him and tilted it so it panned down his body. I quickly took in what I could see of his grainy outfit before the camera faced his lap, and on it, a tiny black kitten was loafing.

      "Fuck, that's adorable. She loves you," I said, grinning at the sight before he returned the camera to his face.

      "She's been like this since I got here, so I haven't moved. God, I want to take her home so bad," he said, tone reeking with desperation.

      "Forgiveness is easier than permissionnn," I sang, reminding him of what I'd said the first time he showed interest in adopting her.

      He groaned. "I know. I'm getting closer and closer to just saying fuck it. I think I'll have to wait until Christmas, though. My uncle is a lot more lenient about things around my birthday," he said.

      "Mmm," I hummed, an idea suddenly striking me.

      "What?" he asked. I guess my realization had been plastered over my expression.

      I quickly tried to think of something. "Nothing, you just reminded me of Thanksgiving. I still have to ask my mom if you guys can come," I said. It was still true, after all, just not quite what I had been thinking about. 

      Levi tsked. "You were supposed to do that last week," he said.

      I sighed. "I know, I forgot. If I don't say anything later about it, text me, I probably forgot again."

      He rolled his eyes—it was a little crunchy-looking due to me having to rely on my phone's data—but agreed. I took a right turn as I entered my neighborhood. "I'm about to be home. Wanna hang after you're done at the café?" I asked.

      He shifted, looking down at his lap before switching his phone to his other hand. "I can't. My uncle and I had plans to paint the kitchen," he said.

      I tried to ignore the way my heart sank. I also tried to ignore the way my mind asked: why couldn't he reschedule it for me?

      "That's cool," I said despite it. "What about tonight? I can come over and we can watch a movie or something," I tried, but he sighed.

      "I have an essay due Monday with Mrs. Kurtz that I really have to nail. Maybe tomorrow," he said.

      "I could just exist in your room while you're working on it," I persisted.

      Levi smirked at my pathetic attempt. "You know I won't be able to focus like that, Eren," he said matter-of-factly.

      I pursed my lips to hide the frown that wanted to tug them down, nodding my head. "Alright, alright," I said dejectedly. He looked at me through the camera, his eyes softened, but I looked ahead, forcing indifference. "I'm about to be home; I'll talk to you later, 'kay?" I said.

      Levi wedged his bottom lip between his teeth, staring at me for a moment longer before nodding. "Alright. I'll talk to you later," he mirrored softy before I ended the FaceTime call.

     I was still minutes away from my house, but I was too overwhelmed to try dealing with my emotions while on the phone. Unwelcome thoughts quickly came flooding in, weighing me down like steel.

      He thinks you're too clingy. He doesn't want to spend time with you. You're overbearing. He doesn't want to be with you.

      "Fuck," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. I knew these thoughts had no real substance to them, rationally, I could determine that. Yet, that didn't mean they hurt any less to feel—it didn't mean they didn't try with all of their might to claw their way to some kind of truth, and my mind did everything in its power to make that the case.

      Desperate for a distraction, I played an old true crime podcast from a group I used to listen to back when I was passionate about investigative law. I didn’t indulge in the interest often these days anymore—sometimes it reminded me of the dreams I once had—but every now and then it was a good pastime.

      I dragged my feet the rest of the way home, mood plummeted despite myself. Too lazy to open the door like a normal person, I glanced around as I headed toward it, deeming the coast clear before twisting it open Telekinetically.

      There had been too many instances of me losing my house key for various reasons over the years, so even though I still had one, my parents just settled for keeping the door unlocked while I was out, even if they were gone. We lived in a safe enough neighborhood, anyway—and in their opinion, it was a better option than having to drive all the way home to let me in.

      I glanced behind me and Telekinetically shut it as I headed inside, sighing. The house was so empty, the silence loud as I walked through the living room and toward the stairs. Weirdly enough, I had grown used to Kenny watching something random on the TV or Tensoon making himself known when I went to Levi's.

      A pet was out of the question, I was leaving home as soon as I graduated and I would probably kill it by accident, anyway. All that mattered was that I wouldn't be staying here—and the mundane atmosphere wouldn't one day drive me insane.

      Over the last couple of weeks there were several days I still thought about the junkyard. I almost itched to go back there, to remind myself how powerful I really was—that I was capable of moving something as heavy as a car. Yet it was so far away that taking an uber there and back seemed wasteful, and I couldn’t ask anyone for a ride without raising suspicion. I wasn’t even sure if that was a habit I wanted to indulge in, especially since I was supposed to be staying on the down-low now that I was with Levi.

      I settled for pulling my PlayStation controller to my hands from where I sat in my bedroom. That small, minute ability would have to do, for now.

      I was in the middle of the first act of Black Myth: Wukong when my parents got home—weirdly enough, they arrived around the same time. Brushing it off as a mere coincidence, I paused the game and headed downstairs.

      It was rare I ever sought out my parents, but my thoughts were growing louder and louder while alone in the house, and the attempts at drowning out my paranoia from Levi's lack of texts due to nothing but a busy day were becoming more difficult by the second.

      "Eren—how was work?" my mom asked when I entered the kitchen, delicately brushing her fingers through her hair. It was slightly stringy and a bit messy, unlike her for having just come home from errands.

      "Busy. What's up with your hair?" I asked.

      She scoffed, pressing her eyebrows together. "That's rude. I didn't have time to brush it this morning," she said.

      I raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Whatever you say," I mumbled.

      "It's impolite to mention the state of a woman's hair. What kind of man have I raised?" she clicked her tongue, swatting me on the shoulder. Surprise lifted my expression at the word man. She never called me that. I was always her kid, or her child, if not just her son.

      "The same man that knows his mom always makes sure her hair is perfect before leaving anywhere," I replied.

      She waved her hand dismissively. "Even I'm allowed a pass every now and then," she said, and I shrugged.

      "Where's dad?" I asked as I Telekinetically pulled out one of the island stools. I slid onto it, grabbing my phone out of my back pocket.

      "In the basement," she said, opening the fridge. I watched her pause as she looked inside, looking at the giant turkey on the bottom shelf—which instantly triggered a memory. I sat up to mention Levi, but paused when I noticed my mom's shoulders sag before she let out a ragged sigh.

      "There's been a change of plans for Thanksgiving," she began.

      I raised an eyebrow. "I'm gonna be honest, I didn't even know what the plans were to begin with," I admitted.

      She huffed, but didn't comment. Whatever these plans were seemingly overruled any urge to berate me for missing such crucial information. 

      "Your aunt Mary and your cousins are visiting for Thanksgiving with grandma and grandpa," she said stiffly.

      My eyes practically bulged out of my head, and I almost choked on my spit as I leaned forward. "What? Aunt Mary is coming over?" I exclaimed. "Hasn't it been, like, four years?"

      "Six, actually," my mom muttered.

      I blew a raspberry through my lips, crossing my arms over my chest. "When did this happen?" I asked.

      Mom threw a frustrated hand up. "It was all your grandfather's idea. He and Nana were tired of having to go out of their way to see the two of us, so they somehow convinced Mary to drag her and the kids here," she frustratedly explained.

      My aunt lived in Trost, which was about four hours away, so it was no surprise that my grandparents were tired of their daughters' insisting on having separate Thanksgivings now that they were getting older.

      "That's... crazy. Are you going to be, like, okay?" I asked, chuckling in disbelief. My mom pretended to be a fitting member of society with a happy family and an appropriate social life, but if there was one person she could hardly hide her distaste for, it was her older sister.

      My mom shot a glare at my chest. "Of course I'm going to be okay. I can handle your aunt. It's Grisha I'm worried about—he can't stand her," she claimed. I wanted to laugh again, but managed to contain myself. Sure mom, dad was the one with the issue, not you.

      "And her daughters, my god—last time I saw them, they were running absolutely rampant. Zero control," she criticized, a disgusted sneer curling her upper lip. I sighed. Here we go.

      "Mom, they were like, four and seven," I said dryly.

      She shrugged her shoulders in, pursing her lips. "Still—they acted like they ran the household. I've never seen such terrible tantrums," she boldly claimed.

      I shot her a deadpanned stare, my head dropping to the side. Even though she didn't look at my face directly, I could tell she could feel the 'you damn well know that's not true' stare reeking from me.

      "Whatever, my point still stands," she griped. I rolled my eyes, huffing a breath through my nose. No matter what it was about, Mom always insisted she had the upper hand over my aunt. Kids, home life, social standing, morals, the list was endless.

      None of our extended family knew about my powers—not even my grandparents. It was our biggest secret, mutually sworn the moment I became coherent enough to understand what secrecy was. Even I didn't test the waters on that one.

      After all, my mom’s reputation in the family would instantly crumble to smithereens the instant anyone found out her son was a freak, whether they were able to keep the secret or not.

      The one time I knew her feelings toward my aunt were irrecoverable, an instance I doubt she even understood the severity of, was when my aunt got divorced. There was this weird, unsettling sense of relief that came off of my mom behind closed doors, despite the way she expressed this off-putting sympathy about it toward the rest of the family.

      I thought I felt a sense of competition toward others, but when it came to needing to prove oneself, no one compared to my mom and her older sister.

      As my mom went back to the fridge, muttering under her breath, my phone suddenly buzzed on the island. My heart leapt as I grabbed it, reading the notification.

      nerd: Thanksgiving

      I gasped quietly, replying with a quick "omg thanks" before putting my phone down. "Um, mom," I began.

      She sighed before placing a bag of green beans down onto the counter. "What?" she replied without turning to me.

      I glanced to the side, clearing my throat. "I know this, like, might not be a good time to ask, but... can Kenny and Levi come over for Thanksgiving?"

      My mom huffed in exasperation. "More people, Eren? I'm already cooking for eight—ten is a big ask," she said exhaustively.

      "I know, I know—I meant to ask last week, I just forgot. But come on, Kenny and Levi have no family to spend it with. Levi said they were just going to eat at home alone; isn't that sad?" I said, anxiously planting my hands over the island.

      "They made the choice to move here, honey," she justified.

      I groaned. "It can't be that hard to cook for two extra people, right? You always make giant portions, anyway. Plus—maybe Kenny can help you cook. I bet he would love to," I said, my voice growing hopeful as the idea sank in.

      My mom abruptly paused cutting the green beans, silently lifting her head before turning and pointing the knife in my direction. Despite it clearly being absentminded, I still raised an eyebrow at how full of passion it was.

      "You know what? You're right," she said quietly, her eyes narrowed at a wall.

      "I am?" I mumbled before realizing I had asked that out loud. "I mean, yeah, I know," I quickly said.

      She turned back to the green beans, casually resuming her cutting with oddly relaxed shoulders. "Plus, it would be nice to have a buffer between me and my sister," she added—so quietly I wouldn't have been surprised if it was only to herself.

      "Perfect," I said, excitedly grabbing my phone and opening my text messages with Levi.

it's all set, my mom said you guys can come

      I didn't receive a response right away, but knowing Levi was busy, I tried not to hold it against him.

༄༄࿐

      Thanksgiving break was like the school version of being edged. Three days was never an actual break from homework, but Christmas—the actual time off—was right around the corner. 

      It was Thanksgiving day, and Levi was already at my house. Apparently, Kenny had to 'prepare more' before heading over, whatever that meant, so Levi did the honor of driving here first.

      "Damn, your house is enormous," he muttered as he took off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack beside the front door.

      "I mean, it's not that much bigger than yours," I said, guiding him inside. But as he eyed the chandelier in the living room, he gave me a narrowed-eyed stare, and I smiled sheepishly.

      It had dawned on me the second he arrived that my parents had no idea we were dating yet. I hadn't really prepared for the whole 'I told you so' fiasco, nor the bombarding of questions and concerns, nor the fact that my mom would have to break it to my aunt and grandparents that I liked men.

      "We don't have to tell them today, you know," Levi quietly said to me on the couch.

      "I just don't know if I want to do it so... publicly—especially on a holiday, you know?" I said, glancing behind me once to ensure no one was eavesdropping.

      Levi eyed me. "Eren, we were outed to an entire school the day after we started dating," he muttered.

      My shoulders sagged. "I know. I think it's just the fact that this is my family. They can be really... intense. A couple hundred high-school idiots is nothing," I replied.

      Levi nodded, albeit only slightly. "That's understandable," he said. I eyed him, noticing his monotonous tone.

      "You're really okay with them not knowing yet?" I asked cautiously, my arm thrown over the back of the couch as I faced him.

      Levi shrugged, fiddling with his sleeves. "I'm kind of used to it," he said, expression impassive.

      Realization dawned on me. "Oh..." I began, "that's... not good." I wasn't entirely sure what to say. He shrugged, tucking his hands under his arms, baggy blue sweater drowning his body.

      "Levi... what exactly happened in Mitras?" I asked quietly, brows furrowed with concern. There had been too many hints toward a bad history in that grungy town to let it remain hidden for much longer. I had left him alone until now, as I knew I wouldn't have wanted to be pressured if I were him. But soon, we would be reaching one month of being together—I felt it was only right I knew more about what his life was like back then.

      Never-mind the fact that I was keeping the biggest secret in the world from him. That was different. That was life changing.

      Levi seemed to be reluctant to offer an answer. He held his breath, then let it out with a sigh, staring at the coffee table before glancing at me. I suddenly realized how distressed I was by the fact that he was hiding something, stripped away of any comfort as if it had been a blanket wrapped around me.

      I could find out so easily; it would be as if he was pouring his soul out to me—all it would take was one... single... push.

      He opened his mouth to speak, and I braced myself, prepared for anything. Then, footsteps sounded from behind us, and we both turned to see my mom walk into the living room, wiping her hands on her pumpkin-themed apron.

      Her eyes flicked between the two of us before she spoke up. "Eren, could you help me in the kitchen? I'm making horderves—everyone will be here soon."

      I sighed, not wanting to cause a scene in front of Levi. I glanced at him before getting up from the couch, hoping what he had been close to saying was what I wanted to hear—the truth.

      You've always been lied to. How do you know this won't be any different?

      "Everything okay?" my mom asked as we headed into the kitchen.

      "Yeah, it's fine," I muttered, anxious for a distraction from my thoughts. "Why do you need me?"

      She gestured to the island, which had a cutting board, a knife, a large onion, a bowl of whole mushrooms, and three cloves of garlic on it. "I need to start these stuffed mushrooms, but I also need to prepare the pumpkin pie. I ran out of time to do both since Kenny hasn't arrived yet. If I don't have something ready by the time everyone gets here, I'll never hear the end of it from your aunt," she said. She was stiff as she traversed through the kitchen, bones tense yet feet quick.

      "Uhh... okay. What am I doing, exactly?" I said, hovering in front of everything as my brain tried to process what was going on.

      She huffed impatiently. "There is a knife, cutting board, and a bunch of vegetables in front of you. I'm sure you can figure it out from there," she bit back.

      I raised an eyebrow at her blatant aggression. "I'm not going to help if you're gonna act like this," I said hotly.

      She paused, hands hovering in the air. Her hair was tousled into a messy ponytail, accentuating her taut jaw and pursed lips. "Eren," she calmly began, "if you could please finely chop those onions and garlic for me, that would be great. You don't need to worry about the mushrooms, they need to be cut in a specific way," she cordially forced out.

      I smiled, grabbing the knife. "Now, was that so hard?" I said quietly.

      She shot a glare to my neck, muttering, "can't demand respect in my own damn house," under her breath.

      I began cutting in silence, moving slowly as I figured out the best way to go about this. "Where's dad? Why isn't he helping you?" I asked, wondering whether I should keep the end of the onion in tact or not.

      My mom grabbed a bowl, setting it onto the counter with not-so-subtle force before responding. "He's upstairs in his office, handling paperwork for a patient before joining us. He should be downstairs by the time your grandparents get here," she said, an air of impatience to her tone.

      I hummed, continuing to cut. It was obvious my mom was really worked-up about today. She was normally stressed on Thanksgiving as it was, usually only having to cook for us and my grandparents—sometimes my dad's parents would fly in from Germany, too—but this was another level of anal I feared I wouldn't have to see in her since the last time she saw my aunt. That Christmas had been one of the worst, by far.

      The further I got into chopping the onion, the more confused I became. The sizes of cubes I cut were all different, varying from tiny to way too large to be considered 'finely' chopped, and the only solution I found was to go back and cut those pieces into smaller ones.

      I was close to just chucking it all and restarting before a voice sounded from over my shoulder. "What exactly are you trying to do here?"

      I almost sliced my hand open as I jumped. Even my mom was startled, throwing a hand over her chest and turning around. "Oh, dear, you're like a mouse," she breathed with an anxious chuckle.

      Levi eyed her with a sheepish curl of his lips before looking at the cutting board. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged. "What? I think it looks great," I lied, and he rolled his eyes. This seemed to freak my mom out, as she rushed to the island to see what was going on.

      "Oh god, Eren—here, forget it, I'll just take care of it," she said hurriedly, but Levi held a gentle hand up.

      "Don't worry, Mrs. Jaeger. I can help him," he said calmly, taking the knife from my loose hand. My mom eyed him for a moment, as if hesitant to accept, before she made an anxious noise and turned back to her pumpkin pie mixture.

      "I'd take that as a yes," I whispered, and Levi huffed a laugh through his nose before shifting closer.

      "You have to regard the onion as one whole object before you separate it. Here, watch" He cut off any hanging, misshapen chunks I had left behind, starting with one fresh half. He diced it in even slices perpendicular to the rings, not reaching the end of the onion, but stopping each cut just before it so it still remained in tact.

      Then, he turned the onion so the knife was parallel with the rings, carefully slicing it into small cubes that fell away with ease. "See?" he said, offering the knife back once there was only a third left.

      I shook my head, gesturing to the onion. "I think I need to see you demonstrate the rest of it to really get a clear idea," I said with a pursed smile. He rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, but continued cutting anyway, an amused smirk curling his lips. 

       "All done. I'll demonstrate how to chop garlic with the first clove, then I have to use the bathroom," he said, grabbing one of the cloves.

      I watched him carefully as he skinned it and laid the fresh, naked garlic on the cutting board. He chopped it effortlessly, explaining why his technique was the most efficient. "I didn't know you could cut like that," I told him honestly.

      He held the knife up with a hand on his hip. "I may not be as good of a cook as my uncle, but I've picked up a few of his tricks," he humbly acclaimed.

      After he left for the bathroom, I attempted to copy his method of cutting with the next two cloves. I did noticeably worse of a job, but I was able to successfully chop them into relatively tiny pieces, and I consider that a win.

       "Eren, I need your help for a second," my mom anxiously said from the other side of the kitchen.

      "Coming," I mumbled. My hands were all sticky from the garlic, so I quickly washed them off before meeting her side.

      She was helplessly looking up at the highest shelf in the kitchen, and a tinge of silver could be seen near the back of it. My mom had to stand on her tippy-toes to even see it. "It's my crust mold. I only use it once a year. it’s specifically for the pumpkin pie, but your father stored it way too high."

      I blinked at it, stretching my arm up as I stood on my toes. The tips of my fingers could just barely reach the surface of the the shelf even at my height of six-two, and she expected me to grab the entire mold resting at the very back of it?

      "I can't even reach that, mom. Why the hell did he put it so far back? Why was this shelf even made?" I said frustratedly.

      I caught movement in my peripheral, and glanced over to see that Levi had returned. My mother, however, groaned, still distracted by her dilemma.

      "Use your powers, or something!" she impatiently demanded.

      I almost broke my neck from the way I snapped my head to gawk at her, my heart sinking as my body temperature plummeted. "What powers?" I said with a forced, painful laugh, my words clear and loud enough for my mom to snap out of it.

      She jerked around to look at me as I stared at her with wide eyes. "What are you—" she did a double take toward the kitchen entrance, seeing Levi leaning his weight against one leg. She quickly clicked her tongue, slapping my arm. "I was joking. Go grab your dad, or something," she said casually, yet I could practically feel our mutual anxiety grow thick in the room.

      My nerves had been so severely shot that I was almost lightheaded. I briefly shut my eyes as I took a grounding breath, doing everything I could to keep myself from spiraling into a full-blown panic attack. "Levi, c'mere." I acted quickly, waving him toward me. Albeit confused, he shuffled over.

      "I'm going to lift you up. Grab that crust thing on the top shelf, okay?" I asked anxiously.

      He looked at me with a curious expression despite the fact that I had given him clear directions. "Alright," he mumbled, moving to stand in front of me.

      I braced myself behind him, placing my hands on his waist just beneath his ribcage. "Why are you all... tremulous?" he asked quietly, but I ignored him and the shaky way my breath escaped me, gripping him tightly before lifting him into the air with a grunt.

       He weighed almost nothing, and I could easily bring him higher into the air until he was able to grab the mold from the top shelf. I carefully set him down, briefly forgetting where we were as I let my hands linger a little too long. I forced myself to tear them away, bringing them to my side as Levi handed my mom the mold. "Thanks, honey," she said to him, noticeably calmer now—though I noticed the way she eyed me before turning back to the counter.

      I gave him a small smile, and he searched my eyes with an odd look. I was about to ask what was wrong, but his phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. "My uncle's here," he announced.

     My mom let out a dramatic breath of relief. "Oh thank god," she said quickly.

      "I'm gonna go let him in," Levi told me, and I nodded before he left the room.

      As if synched, my mom and I simultaneously turned to each other. She opened her mouth, but I was too quick to allow her a chance to speak. "Okay, I'm so serious right now, what the actual hell has gotten into you?" I whispered harshly, glaring daggers at her.

      My mom gaped, sputtering on her words before she managed to spew something out. "I–I don't know! I'm just so anxious, I completely forgot he was even here," she whispered back. I opened my mouth to reply, but before I knew it, her eyes begun flooding with tears.

      Taken aback, I pursed my lips shut, stopping myself from berating her any longer. I was sure she got the point by now.

      I released a ragged sigh. "It's fine. I'm sure he didn't suspect anything," I whispered, glancing toward the doorway to ensure they hadn't entered the kitchen yet. "But you have to be more careful. And that's coming from me," I added.

      She nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I know, I know—I don't know what's wrong with me," she wept.

      I lifted a hand and awkwardly patted her shoulder, battling both my anger that she'd slipped up so horribly and the weird sense of regret that she was crying like this. Footsteps sounded from around the corner, and I turned to see Levi and Kenny enter the kitchen, each holding a full glass dish covered with foil.

      Levi raised an eyebrow at our position, eyeing me with concern. I grimaced, unsure where to go from here, but when my mom looked up to see Kenny and the food they'd brought, she gasped with relief and pulled away from me.

      "Oh, perfect! Thank you so much. Just set them right onto the island here," she said hurriedly, wiping at her eyes with a quick hand. Kenny looked over her face, but didn't comment—not before shooting a glare at me over her shoulder.

      "Not to worry, Carla. It wasn't a problem," Kenny boasted. He leaned in closer to my mom, speaking quietly, but loud enough for both Levi and I to hear. "Oh, and uh, don't worry about giving me any credit. Between you and me, this is all yours," he said.

      I looked between them, bewildered. My mom threw a hand over her chest, a noticeable weight lifting off her shoulders. "I can't thank you enough, Kenny. Surely I have to give you something in return," she insisted. I looked over at Levi, who stood behind his uncle, and he shrugged with an expression equally as confused. 

      Kenny waved a large, dismissive hand at her. "No, no. Consider this a gift for my favorite neighbors," he said with a charming smirk, and mom let out a breathy laugh.

      I combed my hair back before leaving my hand in the air for emphasis. "Let me get this straight. You had Kenny make you food to pretend you made it?" I asked quizzically, still trying to grasp onto what I was hearing.

      My mom tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, shrugging. "Well, no... not exactly," she said sheepishly.

      I scoffed at the implication. "Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath.

      "Hey, kid, everyone needs a little something slipped under the table every now and then," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his chin at me.

      "Do you need me for anything else, mom?" I forced myself to ask, on the brink of snapping from the level of impatience throbbing in my temples.

      She shook her head, fondly eyeing the two dishes over the island. "Nope. I'm okay now, honey. Thanks," she said, and I rolled my eyes before turning away and leaving the kitchen.

      Levi began to follow me silently. When we entered the hallway, I turned to him and grabbed his arm. "Do you want to go to my room to talk?" I asked, anxious for him to resume what he was going to tell me. I sucked in a deep breath when it felt like my lungs weren't taking in enough air.

      He hesitated, glancing down at my grip on his arm. "I don't know if this is a good ti—" he was cut off by the doorbell, which painfully rang through my skull.

      I groaned simultaneously with my mom’s call from the kitchen. "Eren, get the door!"

      Levi subtly rubbed my back as a meek effort to give comfort as I dragged my feet to the entryway. I pulled the door open, forcing a smile to my face when I was met with my grandma and grandpa's bright, excited expressions.

      "Oh, Eren! My goodness, dear, you've gotten so tall!" Nana exclaimed, pushing past me without waiting for me to step to the side. I let grandpa follow her in—he patted my shoulder with a firm hand—and turned around behind them.

      And you've gotten shorter, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue. "You say that every year, Nana," I said instead, amusing her for the sake of peace.

      "Because every year it's true! You're like a beanstalk. That hair of yours could use a cut, though," she said through a chuckle that was much more gravely than last year.

      "Ohh, and who is this handsome fellow?" Nana met Levi by the entryway after she had taken off her shoes, smiling at the sight of him.

      "Hi, I'm Levi—Eren's uhm, friend," he told her, glancing at me. I winced, the sound of such a treacherous term to define us like a dagger digging deep into my chest.

      I wanted so badly to be able to say fuck it and kiss him in front of everyone—why was I being such a bitch about this? Levi was right, an entire school knew, yet I couldn't bring myself to be honest with my own family. What the hell was wrong with me?

      "And a beautiful friend you are! I'm so jealous of you young boys; clearer skin than I ever had when I was your age." She patted the side of Levi's arm, and Levi gave her an ever-so-slight smile.

      I gave him a look behind her shoulder that screamed 'she's a lot, I know,' before we walked further into the house. Just as my grandparents began their usual routine—looking around to spot anything new or different before heading into the kitchen, my dad finally came downstairs.

      He eyed Levi, his right eyebrow quirking up curiously. "Nice of you to finally show up," I said.

      He sighed at my crossness. "Sorry, Eren. I didn't expect work to follow me into the holidays," he excused.

      I pressed my lips together in frustration. "And yet it's funny that it always does," I muttered. Levi placed a hand on my shoulder, gesturing me back to the kitchen with a comforting hand that encouraged me to ease off. I felt my dad's inexplicable stare linger on us for a moment longer before I huffed and turned around.

      We all entered the kitchen together, and my grandparents immediately flocked to my dad with excitement. However, after a brief hug with Nana, Dad could hardly pay attention to them. Beneath tightly furrowed brows, his eyes were glued to Kenny, who was stirring a pot with a black apron that seemingly materialized out of nowhere tied around his waist.

      "What is he doing here?" Dad asked bitterly, and I blinked between the two of them with surprise. Mom didn't tell him he was coming?

      The kitchen fell to an awkward silence. Mom turned around with wide eyes to look at him. "There you are. Eren asked if they could come because they had no one to spend Thanksgiving with, honey. Kenny was just helping me prepare a few things," she said calmly.

      "Ohh, isn't that sweet, dear," my Nana cooed, proudly patting me on the shoulder.

      "And... I wasn't told of this," my dad stated matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his white button-down.

      "I think it just slipped my mind, honey—I've had a lot to do on my own," my mom said with an air of passive-aggression before turning back to the oven.

      Ignoring the obvious tension, Kenny sent a charming grin to my dad over his shoulder. "I'll be getting out of your wife's hair soon enough, Doctor. Just wanted to help where I could," he said smoothly.

      "Mm," my dad hummed shortly. "I think I can take it from here. Carla, what do you need?" Kenny paused as my dad neared them, placing a hand on mom's shoulder.

      She glanced at him briefly. "I just need someone to prepare the dining room," she quickly told him.

      "Nothing... in the kitchen?" Dad asked, gesturing to the stove.

     Mom shook her head. "No—we have everything figured out. Actually, if everyone could head into the living room, that would be wonderful. It's too crowded in here," she said, loud enough for all of us to hear.

      "Let your husband help you, Carla. Lord knows you could need it," Nana said.

      My mom bitterly tossed a towel onto the counter. "Mom, I can handle it," she said through clenched teeth.

      This was going to blow up into something much worse if no one did anything. "We'll go. Come on," I instigated, looking at Levi and nodding toward the hallway. He quickly agreed, looking back at his uncle once before following me into the living room.

      "Can we talk now?" I asked once we were alone, pushing my hands into my pockets.

      Levi pursed his lips, glancing to the side. "Can we just talk later, Eren?" he quietly asked, rubbing his arm.

      Irked with the fear of betrayal, I glared at him before I could stop myself. "What's the point of talking later when we could just talk now?" I snapped impatiently. 

      Levi's expression momentarily faltered before hardening, eyes narrowed. "Because your entire family is going to be here soon and I'm anxious off my fucking ass, that's why," he bit back in a harsh whisper.

      I pushed my hair back with a tense hand, huffing. Knowing responding might risk saying something I would regret, I kept my mouth shut, returning to the couch where I slumped down pathetically.

༄༄࿐

      When Aunt Mary and my cousins arrived, it was as if all hell broke loose. I hadn't seen my cousins since I last saw my aunt—so it had been... what was it again? Six years?

      It was weird to see how much Gabi and Isabel had grown in that time. Isabel was now thirteen, while her younger sister was ten. They almost looked like duplicates of each other—taller, large eyes, auburn brown hair, yet Gabi had her’s tied back in a ponytail, while oddly enough, Isabel still kept her two pigtails.

      Something they definitely had in common, however, was their mutual aggression. The moment they arrived, they were already fighting about who got to sit next to their mom, voices shrill and intense while no one intervened.

      One thing my mom hadn't been anticipating, however, was an extra guest. Gabi had insisted on dragging her best friend Falco along. Why he wasn't spending Thanksgiving with his own family, I wasn't sure. But considering I had Levi here, I didn't really have the room to talk.

      "Mary—I wasn't expecting anyone else to come. I only have ten chairs. Why didn't you tell me he would be with you?" I overheard mom tell her sister. Their hug when they arrived had been stiff and forceful, and everyone in the room could tell.

      "Oh Carla, surely one more mouth to feed won't be a hassle for you," my aunt said dismissively.

      "I don't know, Mary, she was having some trouble with dinner earlier," Nana chimed in. I watched my mom's jaw go rigid, and it was obvious she was biting back something she wanted to retort with. Instead, she only huffed, getting ready to bring everything to the dining room table.

      After introductions and several minutes of trying to wrangle everyone together—specifically Isabel and Gabi, as they had spontaneously decided to race each other up the stairs, as well as Kenny and my aunt, who had engaged in a conversation filled with charming smiles—everyone finally sat down at the dining table.

      Our dining room was unnecessarily massive. It was one of the reasons we hardly ate here—the ten seater, polished white-oak table with a silk runner, giant lily centerpiece, and glass chandelier above our heads was a bit much for three people. Sometimes we had dinner here when my mom was feeling particularly indulgent, but otherwise it just looked depressing.

      Now, however, it was our only option. Every single one of us crammed around the table with each dish piled atop it, our plates and silverware given barely enough room to breathe. Mom had taken one of the island's stools for Gabi's friend to use, and he was crammed between her and Isabel.

      I sat at a corner, Nana beside me at one end, and Levi on my other side. After Nana insisted that we all prayed—I normally kept my eyes vacantly glued to my lap, but I was surprised to see that Levi had his closed. After appreciating how perfect his hand felt in mine, we were finally allowed to start digging in. Everyone ignored Isabel and Gabi as they started fighting about who got to portion their plate first.

      "Carla, this casserole is absolutely delicious. You made this yourself?" Nana asked once we all began to eat.

      I eyed Kenny, who payed no mind as he continued eating, while my mom raised her eyebrows. "Oh, yes... thank you," she said from the opposite side of the table. I could feel her anxiety radiating off of her from here.

      My dad didn't comment, even as he furrowed his eyebrows after tasting it. I sighed, glancing at Levi. I realized he wasn't eating yet, fiddling with his fingers on his lap instead.

      I nudged him with my foot and he looked up at me, eyebrow raised. I nodded toward his food, opening my mouth to ask him why he wasn't eating, but before I could speak, my Nana spoke up beside me.

      "So, Eren. Do you have a girlfriend yet?" she blatantly asked.

      I tensed, slowly turning my head to look at her before swallowing. "Uh, no. Not yet," I answered. I heard Levi suck in a breath beside me, and glumly pursed my lips together.

      My nana waved a hand at me, smiling. "Aw, I'm surprised. I'm sure with those handsome looks, girls fall at your feet every day!" she added.

      Please, old lady, for the love of god, stop talking.

      I let out an awkward laugh, only realizing now that my leg was bouncing anxiously. But a queasy feeling settled in my gut when I realized Levi wasn't placing his hand on my knee to stop it like he always did.

      Nana didn't seem to get the hint, as she kept going. "I'm sure that'll change soon enough, dear. Maybe I could even set you up with my friend's granddaughter—sweet girl, she is. She could be a model."

      Levi abruptly stood up beside me. "Uh, sorry, I need to use the bathroom," he muttered.

      "Levi," I said quietly, reaching out for him. But my hand hovered in the air pathetically as he pushed in his hair and left the room, fleeing into the hallway.

      I glared at my grandma, who remained oblivious, before I looked at Kenny after hearing a ragged sigh tear from his throat. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds before continuing to eat, a pissed expression on his face.

      "That one's a bit quiet, isn't he?" My aunt said.

      "Shut up," I muttered, and my mom jerked her head up to glare at me as my aunt's eyebrows raised with surprise. Kenny, however, seemed mildly more pleased than before.

      "Eren! That's no way to talk to your aunt," Mom snapped.

     I rolled my eyes, but Aunt Mary looked at my mom with a knowing glower. "Guess it's hard to get ahold of your kids even when they're grown, hm?" she said.

      As Mom flushed with embarrassment, my aunt's glass of wine shattered. Red liquid spilled out as glass scattered, pouring over the oak table and onto her food. She shrieked while everyone in the room gasped. Isabel jumped from her chair before any could reach her, jaw dropped with shocked amusement. Gabi grabbed her friend's hand, letting out a piercing squeal.

      After realizing what happened, my parents immediately jerked their heads to me. I quickly pushed my chair back, standing up. "I'll be back," I said, and didn't bother listening to my dad calling for me to return as my aunt hysterically asked if I was grabbing a towel.

      That was certainly what I would not be doing. I made a beeline for where Levi had gone, heading down the hallway until I reached the first bathroom. Light filtered from underneath it, and I paused to listen in on anything that could be going on inside. Upon the silence that followed, I knocked on the door while leaning against the frame. "Levi, it's Eren."

      I didn't get a response for a few seconds, and my gut coiled with anxiety. "Can I come—"

      Before I could finish, the door swung open. I barely caught a glimpse of Levi's sterling eyes before I was yanked inside, the door quickly pulled shut and locked behind me.

      "Wh—" lips cut me off as they smashed against mine, and I melted against him before I could help myself. I groaned, instinctively wrapping my arms around his waist as his tongue immediately shoved against my own.

      He was all hands, one climbing up my neck and into my hair as the other felt over my side and back. Excitement pumped through my veins, and I couldn't help myself from drifting my hand down the small of his back until I could grab a handful of his ass.

      He moaned against my lips, pulling back to tug at my bottom lip with his teeth before separating us. "Get on the counter," he breathed against me. He almost looked like a different person, eyes dripping with lust as black overpowered silver. His cheeks were flushed and his glossy lips were already growing swollen, tongue rolling out to swipe over his bottom one.

      I didn't think twice. I hopped onto the counter without an ounce of hesitation, having no idea what was coming next. My head was spinning—everything that happened since the door opened had already been so unpredictable. But with the grip of a dying man, I held onto every second of intimacy we could find in private after going so long without it.

      Levi stood between my legs and placed his hands on my thighs, leaning forward to tuck his head beneath my jaw. It felt natural as I lulled my head back, exposing my neck for him as he molded his lips with my skin. A deep, satisfied sound escaped me, chills rushing through my spine at the feeling of someone kissing an area so vulnerable. I gripped his back, nails digging into his shirt to pull him closer, empowering the heat between our hips.

      Despite the haze that clouded my head, I had half a mind to remember why I had come here in the first place. "Levi, are you okay?" I asked, but a groan quickly followed as his teeth scraped against the column of my throat.

      He didn't respond. Instead, the hands on my thighs moved higher. One came up my side and back, finding its way to the back of my neck. The other gripped the front of my jeans, fingers curling around the button that held them together. I felt myself throb at the touch, sighing hotly as his lips found the side of my flushed cheek.

      His hand suddenly turned into a claw as he gripped my hair, yanking my head back. I gasped, eyes fluttering at the painfully good sensation as he leaned in closer to my ear.

      "Let me show you what an average bitch can't do," he growled against me.

      He released my hair as I let out a hot, heavy breath. Then, my eyes grew wide once he begun unbutton my jeans and lower himself in front of my spread legs.

      Holy fuck.

༄༄࿐

      With dazed, blissed out eyes, I walked back into the dining room. I could hardly process a coherent thought as a lazy smile lifted my lips. 

      I barely heard my mom ask, "everything okay?" once I sat back down.

      "Hm?" I asked dumbly. "Oh, yeah—I just needed some fresh air."

      "I didn't hear the door shut," my mom muttered to my dad, and he shrugged. I could feel Kenny’s familiar stare lingering on me, but I ignored it as I continued to eat.

      Aunt Mary had a new plate of food in front of her, silk table runner removed and glass nowhere to be found. I didn't feel bad for my powers getting out of hand like that, my aunt was a bitch who deserved to have a mess of wine on her freshly dry-cleaned dress.

      Gabi was talking about the house being haunted, insisting that was the reason the wine glass shattered. Isabel was calling her an idiot for believing in ghosts, telling her to shut up. Her friend—Falcon, or something—indulged her, talking about some unbelievable story his brother told him about a ghost sighting.

      I'd never had the chance to pull a prank on someone by moving things to make them believe their house was haunted, but that was certainly something to take note of and potentially use at a later date.

      To make things less conspicuous, Levi returned to the table a few minutes later as if nothing had happened. "Are you alright, dear?" my mom asked him.

      Levi nodded, a small smile on his face as he grabbed his fork. "Yeah, I just wasn't feeling very good earlier. But I feel better now," he said, lifting a piece of turkey to his lips.

      "Stomach ache?" My aunt asked, and Levi nodded without a hint of suspicion.

      Damn, he's good.

      I couldn't help but stare at him fondly as he ate. How could I not after what we just did? Images of him between my legs were clear as day. If I could print them out and keep them safe so I'd never forget them, I would in a heartbeat.

      Levi subtly kicked my ankle, and I snapped myself out of my daze, gluing my eyes to my food. Kenny was still glaring at me. Oh god, he knows exactly what we did, doesn't he?

      I tried not to think about it as I finished my plate. Levi ate slowly, still working on his first serving as I grabbed seconds. Mindless chatter or casual catching-up circled around the table, peace finally seeming to settle after hours of chaos. Kenny seemed to finally give up on staring me down, beginning to engage in a conversation with my aunt—one he seemed very interested in after finding out she was divorced. Aunt Mary seemed just as invested, letting out a flattered laugh every few seconds while my mom not-so-discreetly rolled her eyes.

      Gabi wanted a nap after everyone began finishing up their final plate, and my aunt brought her to the guest bedroom. My dad, Isabel, and Falin—or whatever his name was—went to the living room with my grandparents to digest and continue talking. Mom began cleaning up the table, and, somewhat remorseful due to earlier events, I offered to help.

      "Thank you, Eren, but I got it. This actually helps calm me down after the holidays," she said. I shrugged, about to leave, but paused when she muttered, "wait."

      With a plate in hand, she met my side and leaned in close. "I'm not going to say what you did earlier at the table was a good thing, but... it was kind of funny," she whispered.

      I jerked my head back, eyebrows raised with a surprised smile. "Well aren't you the rebellious one today?" I teased, shocked she hadn't reprimanded me. She hushed me under her breath as she looked from my neck to the table.

      I shook my head, walking into the kitchen where Levi had gone. A downturned smile met me when I realized he had brought his own plate to the sink and washed it. Whether it was his consideration or perfectionism, it was charming and adorable.

      After drying his hands, he turned, meeting my eyes. I grinned at him, feeling my heart swell, and he returned it with a tiny smile before meeting me by the island.

      He glanced out at the hallway, the loud chatter carrying from the living room, and one of his hands reached out to fiddle with my fingers at my side. "Do you want to talk now?" he asked.

      Anxiety came rushing back to me at once, sinking through my chest like acid. I licked my lips. "Sure," I quietly began. "Let's go to my room."

      I led him upstairs where we passed my aunt. "I'm just showing him my games," I told her, and she nodded before demanding we hurried downstairs when we were finished. I rolled my eyes before guiding Levi down the hallway, pushing the door open to my bedroom once we reached it.

      "Oh. I forgot to clean it, sorry," I muttered, shamefully eyeing the clothes on the ground by my dresser.

      "No, this is about what I expected," Levi said, looking around with a smirk. "It's very you," he added.

      "Thanks?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

      He huffed a small laugh. "It would be off-putting if it was perfect and pristine. Could it use a good clean? Absolutely; I'd rather die than sleep in here if it looked like this. But it does look lived in, which is what tells me it's yours," he explained.

      I chuckled at his dramatics before gesturing to the bed. We sat down on it together, legs thrown over the side. He ran his fingers over my unmade comforter, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

      "So..." I awkwardly began. I had no idea what he intended on telling me, or if he would even go into detail about Mitras. But something told me I wouldn't be able to leave this room comfortably if I didn't learn about everything he was keeping to himself.

      "I'm going to warn you now, you might not be fond of what I tell you. I half expect that you're going to break up with me after this, so just know that if you do, I won't be blindsided," he began.

      "Great start," I said sarcastically. "Levi, whatever it is, I'm not going to break up with you. I doubt you spent years in a high-class juvenile prison for murder, or something. If you did, though, that'd be kind of hot," I said.

      He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he nudged my shoulder. But he didn't seem too amused, deeply clouded by whatever it was he wanted to say as silence struggled on.

      "Levi," I said, leaning forward to look at him, and he shut his eyes before his shoulders released the mass tension that had consumed them. With that, he began to speak.

      "I didn't have your average high-school experience back in Mitras. When I told you I was the token gay kid, I meant it. I was positive there were other homosexuals at the school, but none confident to come out or exploit it, like I was.

      "This sparked a lot of attention. People were curious as to what exactly that meant. They wanted to know what I had to offer, I suppose," he began, back slouched as his toes curled above the floor.

      I pressed my eyebrows together. "What exactly does that mean?" I asked apprehensively.

      He sighed, ripping the band-aid off. "I slept around a lot. Like, a lot," he finally admitted.

      "Oh," I said after a long pause, trying to ignore the sudden jealousy clawing at my heart. "Like, what, ten, fifteen people?" I assumed.

      He pursed his lips, not responding, and I raised my eyebrows. "Twenty? Thirty?" I pushed on.

      At his continuous silence, my lips began to part with surprise. "Oh..." I trailed off, speechless.

      He swallowed. "Yeah, I, uh, kind of lost count after a while. I know it was nearly every guy that attended my school—those willing to experiment, at least. And there were definitely over... one-hundred," he said quietly.

      I snorted. "Jesus fuck," I said without thinking. He glared at me, expression pinched with a sharp, vexed frown.

      "No, I didn't mean that, sorry," I quickly said, raising my hand up in defense.

      He slouched, head bowed down toward his lap as he fiddled with his hands. He looked absolutely dejected, almost meek, which was so unlike him. He was always so confident. I could clearly see how hard this was to talk about.

      "I'm not elated with myself, if that helps. If I could take it all back, I would. But the worst part was, I thrived off the attention. I had no one else but my uncle in that shitty town—no friends that actually cared about me, no purpose. Even if someone secretly wanted me for a night, that made me feel like I was worth something."

      I was muddled with many conflicting emotions, but ultimately my eyes softened, and I lifted a hand to place it on his back. "Is that why you left?" I asked softly.

      He cleared his throat. "It was part of it, but, not entirely," he confessed.

      "What happened?" I asked, itching to know the whole story.

      He took a moment to collect himself before continuing. "I got around so much that it kind of became my thing. I was the school's 'infamous slut'. Every new student found out soon enough, and if they were a guy, and curious, they'd come to me, ensuring it was kept under wraps. It started becoming too much, and it was taking a toll on my health, so I realized I wanted to finally try settling down and committing to one person."

      My heart dropped. After everything he'd told me so far, that was the one thing that had truly awakened the beast of anxiety festering in my chest. Sleeping with people frivolously was one thing, a serious partner was another.

      He placed a hand on his forehead, rubbing at the skin there. "I'm guessing it didn't go well," I bitterly assumed.

      He sat up straighter as a frustrated huff left him. "We were together for nine months. We were going to attend the same college. He was never confident about his sexuality, never sure what he was, and that should have been my biggest red flag. The piece-of-shit cheated on me with the one girl I thought might have been a real friend.”

      My shoulders sagged. “Fuck,” I whispered.

      With a frown he let the news marinate for a moment, then continued. “I spiraled into a depressive episode because of it. I was... pretty suicidal at one point. I remained in a really dark place for about three months before my uncle finally had enough. We packed up and moved here for a fresh start, and that was it," he finished.

      "That's why you were so bothered by what my grandma was saying," I muttered in realization.

      He huffed. "Well, I'm pretty sure anyone would be upset about that, but... yeah," he replied. “It reminded me a lot of that time.”

      "Wow..." I began in disbelief. "That's... really fucking shitty."

      "You have such an eloquent way with words, Eren," he said flatly.

      I groaned. "I'm not good with this shit. I could try to go on this long rant about how much you're worth, but you already know your worth. I can see it in the way you carry yourself," I claimed.

      "I don't know about that," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders in.

      I lifted my arm and cupped the side of his cheek, turning his head toward me. He looked up at me dolefully, and I leaned in to place a kiss on his lips. "Then if you need me to show you, I will," I told him sincerely.

      He searched my eyes for any falsehoods, though I knew he couldn't find any by the way he relaxed against me. "You really don't care that I've slept around so much?" he asked confusedly.

      I shrugged. "I mean, I barely know what I'm doing, so the more experience one of us has, the better, right?" I concluded.

      He shook his head with narrowed eyes. "You're such an idiot," he said, but the shock in his voice screamed that I was anything but. I grinned, pulling him closer and sliding my hand to his side.

      He smiled, but it was almost melancholy as he looked down at his lap. "I'm just... surprised you want to stay. In my experience, the more I revealed about myself, the less interested people were," he said while glancing away.

      I feel the same exact way, I wanted to say, yet I kept that sacred piece of information safely stored away.

      I lifted his head again. "It sounds to me like you've been around the wrong kind of people your whole life," I told him.

     "I guess I have," he whispered.

      "And I can promise you, I'm not one of them," I said. He looked into my eyes, choosing not to respond, but the relieved glint I saw in his gaze spoke enough. 

      I had make mistakes in my past that I regret, too. And while I wouldn't get into them with him today, if ever, knowing we were both fucked up in our own ways was oddly comforting.

      We eventually found ourselves relaxing against the bed, grateful for a break spent away from the chaos that was my family.

      "Can I ask you something, though?" I said after a few moments of comforting silence. Levi hummed in reply, giving me the incentive to continue.

      "If you knew you shouldn't have trusted him based on how iffy his sexuality was, why are you trusting me? I've only been with girls," I said. I was treading on thin ice—I didn't know how triggering that question might be. But I was anxious to know what his reasoning was. I was practically a walking red flag, after all.

      He paused before turning in my arms to look up at me, fondness in his eyes.

      "To tell you the truth, I can't say for certain. Something just told me to grab ahold of you before I missed my chance," he admitted.

      "Silly little poet," I muttered, and he cuddled into me again with a soft smile.

      Something bothered me, however, and I bit my bottom lip before forcing myself to ask. "You don't still have feelings for that guy, do you?"

      Levi scoffed. "He could go die in a hole for all I care. Trust me, I've moved on. And despite my past, it doesn't change the fact that I'm ready to do this with you. Really do this. Are you?" he asked.

      I looked up at the ceiling as immense relief overcame me, feeling the way his perfect warmth seeped into my bones. "Yeah," I breathed in full, utter confidence.

      We laid in silence for several minutes, basking in each other's warmth. I had eaten so much I wouldn't have been surprised if I fell asleep right where I was, especially in Levi's comforting embrace.

      "EREN!" I heard my mom yell from downstairs.

      I groaned, throwing my free hand over my eyes. "We have to go back down there, don't we?" I asked, a faint rasp to my voice.

      "I'm afraid so," he said dramatically.

      "I hate my family," I muttered. Levi untangled himself, sitting up on the bed and looking back at me.

      "They're certainly... something," he said. "Although, I don't really have anything to compare them to, so."

      "Is that a conversation for another day?" I hesitantly asked, moving my hand to rest on my pillow above my head as I looked at him.

     He shook his head. "There's no story to tell. I've never met my parents, apparently my dad was a piece of shit before they died, my uncle had no other siblings, and my grandparents are also dead," he said matter-of-factly.

      "Jesus Christ," I whispered under my breath, suddenly realizing how lucky I was to actually have such a large family despite how deranged they were.

      "Yep. I'm all sorts of fucked up. Let's go," he said, patting my thigh. I whined, slowly peeling myself from the bed and standing up.

      As I dragged myself to the door, combing through my hair with lazy hands to try to make it presentable after lying down, Levi spoke up from behind me.

      "I know your family is... odd, and all, but one thing I can't wrap my head around is something your mom said earlier. Why was she so confident you could get the crust mold down with 'powers?'”

      I was thankful he couldn't see the dread that fell over my expression. It allowed me the chance to get myself together and shrug. "I don't know, she's just fucking weird. She was joking around, I guess," I said impassively.

      "No offense, but she doesn't quite strike me as the dry humor type," he replied.

      "She's really not. She tries sometimes, but most of it falls flat, as you can see," I said despite the way my heart thumped against my ribcage.

      He let out a short hum, allowing the conversation to drop, much to my undying relief. We headed downstairs as I took a deep breath, shaking my head and preparing myself to face my family again.

Chapter Text

Competitive Sports Cures Loneliness

༄༄࿐

Thirteen Years ago

Grisha

      Dinner had been... uncomfortably silent so far.

      Carla, Eren, and I were sat at our new dining table, one I wasn't afraid to say was much too grandeur for our family's small size. Despite Carla and I having no intention of expanding, I could admit I had gotten a little ahead of myself after our last table had broken.

      Carla was initially upset at the expense, often wanting to ensure humility was her strong-suit. However, she couldn't argue with my decision considering what had happened to the... previous one.

      Neither of us cared to remember Eren's tantrum that day.

      Carla had made lamb chops, broccoli, and mashed potatoes for dinner. As delicious as it was, it was sullied by the odd weight that had settled over the room, the simple clatter of silverware against porcelain plates too loud amidst the silence.

      "Um... I hav'ta tell you guys sun'thing." Upon Eren's small, timid voice, which added to the cacophony, a queasy feeling settled in the pit of my gut.

     Carla jerked her head up, eyes intense, as if she had been anticipating an interruption the entire time. "What is it?" she asked much too callously.

      Eren flinched in his seat.

      "Honey," I said quietly, and Carla forced herself to relax. Her expression was still uneasy as a foreboding tension struggled between us. Even I could feel my hands involuntarily clench around my silverware.

      "Sun'thing happen at the park... well, it's been happening a long time and I..." Eren quietly began. He couldn't meet our eyes, glued to his plate instead. "I though' it was okay, but Mikasa and Armin said it was weird, and... I–'m sorry."

      He began tearing up, his fork hanging loosely in his hand. I could feel my jaw grow taut as I considered his words, taking a deep breath through my nose.

      "Eren, what exactly is going on? Did you tell Mikasa and Armin about your moving powers?" I calmly asked. Carla looked at me, eyes wide with trepidation.

      I sat on the edge of my seat as Eren collected his thoughts, and I could tell Carla was hardly holding herself together.

      "I don' know how to say it, I... is like I can hear what they say in their head... like..." Eren's timid voice trailed off.

      I sat up straighter in my seat. Carla's fork fell from her hand and clattered onto her plate. The silence that followed was near deafening, almost suffocating. It was so overwhelming that Eren began to cry, tears coursing down his cheeks as he gaged our reactions.

      All I could do was swallow, processing the news as a sense of anticipation bubbled within me.

      "Give us an example, Eren." I finally said.

      Eren looked at me, first, then Carla, whose expression was appalled as she glowered at him.

      Eren stared into her eyes and began to speak. His words were slow, careful, as if he was reading off of a children's book. "Mommy's head is saying... 'What... is it... now? I knew... we shouldn' have... have let him... make friends... with the... kids at the park,'" he slowly recited, sagging in his chair as dejection overcame him. "And... I can see pictures..." he whispered. "Mommy's scared..."

      My eyes grew wide as Carla threw her hand over her mouth, a painfully shocked sound escaping her. "Dear god, this can't be happening," she whispered in horror, tearing her eyes away from Eren's intrusive gaze.

      I curled my hand into a tight fist atop the table, lowering my head with a hardened expression. My next demand was stern, quiet, and careful, as if the wrong words would shatter the unstable foundation we currently stood on.

      "Eren. Explain everything you know about this new power."

༄༄࿐

Present day

Eren

      "Mom, dad, I have something to tell you," I announced in the kitchen Monday morning. December had steadily rolled in, and Levi and I had been together for just about a month. I stood in front of the island where my dad sat, newspaper in his hand as he looked up at me with curious brows drawn between his eyes. My mom turned from the sink with a wide, rigid stare aimed directly at my chest.

      "Eren, I swear to god, if you have another power I'm moving out of this house," my mom said with a terrifying level of sincerity.

      My jaw dropped as I let out a shocked laugh. "Wow! I love having such a supportive mother," I spat sarcastically.

      Her glare deepened, and I decided to mitigate her fear. "But, fuck no. Could you imagine? At that point I might as well live in hiding," I said. What would it even be? Super strength? The ability to fly? Man, that'd be so cool.

      She sighed, relaxing her shoulders. "Language," she muttered.

      I rolled my eyes. "Can I actually tell you guys what I was going to say now?" I asked impatiently. The anticipation rolling through me from the confidence I conjured to do this was withering away with each second.

      Mom gestured at the air with her spatula. "Go ahead," she said exasperatedly. "But make it quick, I don't want to burn the sausages."

      I braced myself, taking a deep breath as a few moments of silence waned by.

      "Levi and I are dating," I said quickly, forcing self-assurance to exist in my tone as I curled my fingers around the fabric my jeans.

      The kitchen fell silent. My mom blinked as my dad slowly set the newspaper down on the table, lifting one hand to rub his stubbled chin with his thumb and index finger.

      With a bated breath, I prepared myself for the worst. Judgment, criticism, even something as unpredictable as homophobia despite neither of them having expressed it before. Anything could happen knowing my parents, and I had to make sure I was ready to face it head-on.

      "Oh, honey. I mean, that was kind of obvious," my mom said gently.

      I released an exhausted sigh. "I know, but—wait, what?!" I exclaimed, realizing what she had just said. "What do you mean it was obvious?"

      My mom glanced at my dad, curling her upper lip with a shrug. "Well, you guys haven't been very subtle, Eren. Plus, I suspected something from the start—I already told you that," she explained. I groaned, bringing my hand to my forehead and sliding it down my face.

      "Why didn't you say anything?" I frustratedly asked. Here I was thinking we were being all sly and secretive, guilty that Levi felt he was being purposefully kept hidden from them.

      My mom scoffed. "Because, I was letting you figure it out. For all I know, this is your first relationship!" she justified.

      "It is..." I muttered under my breath, and she nodded with a violent gesture of her spatula in a way that said 'see?'

      "If it helps, Eren, I didn't quite notice until your mother said something. But, your home screen did make things a bit suspicious," dad added. It was his first comment since I had come clean, and his expression was almost unreadable. He didn't look displeased, but he didn't look over-the-moon, either. He was more-or-less indeterminate, and that confused me all the more.

      "You may be Telepathic, but a mother's intuition never fails," Mom said matter-of-factly.

      It bothered me whenever she was so blatantly open about my powers. If it had always been that way, I doubt I would have been as put-off by it as I was. But seeing her behave so laid back was almost scary as much as it was refreshing.

      We hadn't argued at all since the clinic, if you didn't count the Thanksgiving quarrel. That was a new record between my mom and I, and the easiness in the household was beginning to unsettle me. I was used to chaos and disorder; there had been a sense of normalcy to it that was oddly comforting, as depressing as that was.

      Doubts continuously nagged at the back of my skull, insisting I didn't deserve the peace I had come to find and it would be torn from me eventually, as everything always was. I was too happy to allow it to sabotage what I had thus far, but wondering just how long that would last planted a pit of disquiet in my chest.

      "So... you're okay with it? Me seeing Levi?" I asked hesitantly, slowly sliding onto a stool. My mom turned back to the sausage over the stove, quickly flipping them before they burned.

      "Eren, you're almost twenty, you can date whoever you want. But at the same time, I just worry," she said with a tilt of her head.

      I grabbed my medication from the end of the island as I replied. "I already told you, I don’t intend on telling him what I can do. Trust me, I've learned my lesson," I said undoubtedly, popping the bottles open.

      "Yes, so you've said," she muttered. She plated our breakfast and set each dish in front of us—it consisted of sausage, eggs, and buttered toast.

      "What, you don't believe me?" I asked before I took my medication, swallowing down some water with each pill. Mom sighed as she sat down with her tea.

      "It's not that I don't believe you, Eren. The whole situation just... disturbs me. A new relationship built off of a lie does not seem like a very stable foundation," she said.

      "I agree," my dad chimed in. "You can't rightfully build someone's trust while a secret is held from the start."

      Looking between them, I held out my hands in confusion. "What, so you think I should just tell him like it's nothing?" I asked.

      My mom looked nearly startled by the insinuation. "No, that's certainly not what I'm saying. I stand by my belief that no one else should ever find out."

      "Okay, because you're giving me very mixed signals here. Do you expect me to just be alone for the rest of my life?!" I asked hotly.

      However, despite the fact that I was clearly being dramatic, I wasn't expecting her to remain silent. My dad didn't contradict me, either, and their lack of response was painfully enough of an answer for me. I gawked at them, hoping one of them would at least speak up. But after seconds of dreadful silence, I scoffed.

      "Wow. Unbelievable." I scooted my stool back and stood up, leaving my breakfast untouched before grabbing my backpack.

      "Eren," my mom tiredly began as I aggressively threw it over my shoulder.

      "I'm walking to school today," I said bitterly.

      She clicked her tongue. "Eren, it's forty degrees," she stated as if my decision was blatant insanity.

      "Jackets exist!" I called back, grabbing my coat off the rack by the front door and escaping the house.

      Of course there had been a catch. Of course it couldn't go as easily as them accepting my relationship and moving on—like they had been so damn close to doing.

      To think my own parents didn't believe I deserved a relationship. What kind of fucked-up headspace did they live with where they thought their only son should remain alone because of something I couldn't control?

      I was capable of balancing two lives. Even if Levi and I got married one day, I'd be content with setting that part of myself aside, letting it rot.

      I looked up at the cloudy sky.

      Could you really, though? The idea alone made my heart sink.

      Using my powers was such a natural, everyday part of my life. Not using them felt like a waste of my existence, and I already struggled with that as it was. I've never had a purpose—never felt like there was something I wanted to be, something that made sense. I always joked about becoming an investigator or agent due to being Telepathic, but in actuality, I was afraid I would never be good enough to make it that far.

      I had a goal, once, but that had been stomped on and tossed out the window by two people long ago.

      Now, Levi was my sole focus, and with that came endless questions about the future.

      Whatever—that was an issue that I would face years down the line; there was no reason to dwell on it now. I had to live in the moment; I had to make the most of whatever the hell Levi saw in me, and not fuck it up like I always did.

      I would prove to my parents that I was capable of handling something as basic as a relationship.

      As expected, it was cold as shit outside, but surprisingly it hadn't snowed yet. My jacket did enough to ward off the bitter chill as I treaded to school, desperate to see Levi after another busy weekend.

      Winter break was right around the corner, but that also meant finals were kicking our asses—or rather, my ass. Levi spared the time to help me when he could, but because he was taking mostly AP classes, it was difficult to find time to spend time together outside of studying.

      But today, he'd promised we'd take a break and spend some time together after school.

      When I finally made it to the gate, the bell was just about to ring. But instead of heading to class, I made a bee-line for Levi's locker. It was slim, but there was still a chance he hadn't gone to first period yet.

      However, when I reached the row of lockers that contained his, I realized he was in fact there—yet, he wasn't alone.

      That Farlan guy was with him again, leaning against the locker beside his. He was smiling, talking animatedly with his hand while Levi listened. From where I was, I couldn't see whether or not Levi was smiling back at him, but picturing the sight of someone else pulling that kind of emotion from him when so few could ignited a ball of queasiness in my stomach.

      My blood begun to boil in my vein as I clenched my fists by my sides. I could feel myself losing my grip. This wasn't like the comment that kid had made a few weeks ago where I could let my powers act out without anyone thinking twice about it. Levi was right there—I had to get myself together.

      With a tight jaw, I continued walking toward them. Farlan didn't even glance in my direction despite facing me, failing to notice my presence until I stood directly behind Levi.

      Without thinking, I grabbed Levi's waist. He let out a small, adorable sound of surprise—one I was pissed Farlan even got to hear—and pulled him against me.

      "Well, good morning," Levi said with a small huff, craning his head to look back at me when I wrapped my arms around him. I practically swallowed him whole as I leaned down and kissed his temple, getting a whiff of a new perfume that smelled like a heavenly mixture of lilac and peaches.

      "Morning. Why aren't you in class yet?" I muttered against him. I risked taking a glance at Farlan from above Levi's head, hoping he would be able to see the intensity in my glower that screamed 'leave while you still can.'

      Farlan didn’t meet my eyes, eyebrow raised as a poorly-hidden sneer of disgust curled his lips while looking us up-and-down. However, Levi hadn't been paying attention to him, meaning that little look was only meant for me. As soon as it came, it was replaced with an impassive expression.

      "I just got a bit distracted. But I could ask you the same question," Levi said with a small smirk, raising a hand to place over my arm.

      "I wanted to see you," I admitted, uncaring of how much affection we were blatantly expressing in the middle of the hallway. Levi didn't seem to care either, leaning back into me, and that swelled me with both relief and pride. Farlan looked unbearably uncomfortable standing there, watching us hold each other, which was exactly what I wanted.

      "Anyway, I'll leave you guys to it. See you around, Levi," Farlan said, eyeing me one more time before giving Levi an idiotic, half-assed wave and circling around us.

      "What? Oh, bye," Levi muttered far too late, yet his mind seemed to quickly fall elsewhere as he turned around in my arms. He raised his hands to slide around my neck and pulled me down toward him, lifting himself on his toes to mold our lips together. One of his hands moved to cup the side of my head, sliding his fingers into my loose hair I had forgotten to tie up before leaving. I held his sides, tilting my head to kiss him deeper and pushing him against his locker.

      Soon, I pulled away, allowing a couple of inches to exist between us as I searched his expression. "I told my parents about us this morning," I said against him.

      His eyes momentarily widened, white surrounding silver that shone with anxious anticipation. "Oh? How did they react?"

      Attempting to ignore the pang in my chest from their later insinuation, I centered my focus on the initial conversation. "They actually already had a feeling," I told him with a small smirk.

      He looked amused, biting his bottom lip. "Guess we weren't as subtle as we thought," he whispered before pulling me down to resume our kiss.

      We tuned out the sound of the final bell, uncaring of the remaining students that trickled through the hall. That was until we heard several booming claps beside us, and we reluctantly pulled away.

      "That's enough, you two. This isn't Love Island," Ms. Ceelio said sternly. "Get to class before you're late."

      I looked down at Levi, reveling in the state of his red lips and flushed cheeks. "What were you and Farlan talking about?" I asked, anxious to know before we left for class.

      He blinked, as if suddenly pulled out of a daze. "Oh, um, I don't entirely recall. Something about his dog, or... cat. Maybe both," he said with a shrug and an absentminded shake of his head.

      Satisfied by my clearly successful distraction, I pulled away, nodding down the hallway to suggest we get a move on and entangling his hand with mine. We quickly headed to first period together, and by the time we both sat down as Mr. Hannes walked in, Farlan was hardly occupying my mind.

༄༄࿐

       So, that didn't last very long. Spending first period together might have been enough to temporarily quell my paranoia, but as soon as it was over, all hell broke loose. The shell of comfort caved in, leaving me raw and vulnerable with unease. Levi was going to several other classes without me, the same ones Farlan could potentially be attending, and I had no idea what they would be doing. Considering Farlan cared enough about borrowing notes, the chance of him also in AP classes were disturbingly high.

      He could be making Levi laugh, swooping back his ugly bird's nest style he called 'hair' at this very moment, and I wasn't able to do a thing about it.

      I had a final in History before lunch, and I was almost positive I failed it abysmally. It wasn't even my worst subject, but I couldn't fathom the idea of focusing when Levi could be flirting with someone probably ten times smarter than I was. The thought alone caused my throat to constrict.

      I could hardly eat during my lunch period, even though eating was crucial on my medication and I had already skipped breakfast. My lack of appetite was quickly replaced by a nauseating sensation whenever I even tried to indulge in today's school lunch.

      Yet, when I found out that my day miraculously lined up so I had a free period during Levi's lunch, I realized the only thing that would satiate my anxiety was going to see him again.

      It was deeply frowned upon to trespass on lunch periods that weren't your own, but worst-case scenario I would get caught and sent back to class. If I could even do as little as see him with my own eyes, make sure he was okay, that would be enough.

      I stalked through the halls, looking around every corner to ensure I wouldn't run into a teacher. Even though a free period meant you weren't obligated to work, they still advised we at least remained in class and caught up on studying. All of them cracked down on leniency pretty hard during finals.

      Luckily, I reached the cafeteria room without any problems, hearing the cacophony of chatter on the other side of the double doors. Peering through the glass windows, I searched the room for Levi.

      I was ashamed to know I would have been relieved to see him eating alone. Who the hell felt that way about their partner? I just couldn't help myself—it drove me insane that we couldn't be together more during school hours, not knowing who he was hanging out with.

      And sure enough, when I finally found him, he certainly wasn't alone. Farlan was sitting with him, along with two other random guys, a pretty androgynous looking person, and a blonde girl. I recognized a couple of them from the sides of their faces I could see, though I could already tell I probably didn't share enough classes with them, if any, to know who they were.

      This must be the group of people Levi hangs out with when he isn't with me. Of course Levi would make other friends, he basically radiated popularity and attention, something I had always failed to compete with. I was practically a walking plague—I was surprised he even wanted to be seen with me during school.

      He wasn't laughing, or even smiling, but he did appear overall content as he nibbled on whatever he was eating. I eyed Farlan with narrowed eyes, who sat directly beside him. He was talking to him, and I could see Levi nodding along every now and then while he ate, looking down at his tray.

       I ground my teeth together, nostrils flaring as I huffed through my nose. It took every ounce of willpower and the little self-respect that remained to not storm in and drag Levi into the hallway so we could make out.

      Then, Levi glanced up at Farlan after he said something, and he fucking smiled. It was slight, barely even there, but the curl of his lips was unmistakable. The rest of the table was laughing, and I forcibly swallowed down the growing lump in my throat.

      A bitter sense of loneliness and envy swirled in my chest, mocking an empty void. With ringing ears and a glimpse of red that seared behind my eyes, I glanced down at Farlan's tray in front of him. A second later, it slid off the table and onto his lap, where food was tossed all over his shirt and jeans.

      Levi jerked away from him, a confused and disgusted expression on his face, while the rest of the table laughed harder. Farlan stood up from his seat, hands held in the air as he looked down at himself in shock. His mouth moved as he said something to Levi, which I couldn't hear, but Levi shrugged and began to look around.

      I quickly ducked away from the glass and placed my back flat against the wall, my heart hammering against my ribcage. I doubt he saw me, but I was too far away to be positive.

      The sound of footsteps suddenly neared me, and I anxiously turned my head to see Connie. Relieved he wasn't a teacher, I watched him head for the door while glancing at me quizzically. Our eyes briefly met, and without thinking, I read his mind.

      "What a weirdo."

      Yeah, I probably deserved that.

      I sighed as he pushed the door open, heading into the cafeteria room where sound flooded into the hall before muffling as it shut. My shoulders sagged dejectedly as anxious tension begun to dwindle to emotional exhaustion.

      I wish tossing the food onto Farlan had made me feel better, but after the momentary satisfaction in seeing Levi move away from him so quickly, knowing Farlan would probably have to spend the rest of period cleaning up, a desolate vacancy replaced it. I shouldn't have been surprised that Levi enjoyed his time with someone else. Considering I had no idea what Levi saw in me, I wasn't sure what favorable qualities I even had. I doubt moving cars was something I could write on a relationship resume.

      If you took away my abilities, I was barely passing my classes, I constantly skipped school, I had no intention of going to college, I was moody, irritable, manic at times, and barely even knew what I was doing.

      Farlan was stupidly fucking charming, put together, clearly smart, had a knack for making everyone laugh—even someone as emotionally conservative as Levi—and obviously felt he had enough going for him to look down on me.

      But at the end of the day, there was one sole thing I had above all else.

      Levi was mine. I'd make sure he knew that. And I wouldn't allow that a chance to change.

      With a pinched expression and an aching heart, I left the way I came, heading back down the hall to return to class.

༄༄࿐

      Gym period couldn't have arrived any sooner. I was anxious to blow off some steam. Not to mention I was finally back in the same class as Levi with no Farlan to be found.

      "How was lunch?" I asked him after I'd changed into my gym clothes in the locker room. He was putting his shirt on, and I couldn't help but rake my eyes down his lithe body before it was covered.

      I could hardly keep my hands off him, constantly looming over him and holding him every chance I could as what had happened in the lunch room still occupied my mind. Yet, he didn't seem to mind nor did he ever complain, much to my relief.

      "It was fine. Something peculiar happened, though," he muttered.

      I slid my bottom lip between my teeth as my heart skipped a beat, trying to play it off. "Like what?" I asked.

      "Farlan—that guy who comes to my locker—his tray randomly slid off the table and fell on him like it was pulled by a string. I figured he was just clumsy and hit it, but he insisted his hands weren't even touching the table. It was so odd," he explained, looking up at me with drawn brows.

      "That is really weird. Maybe he was lying to seem like he wasn't an idiot," I said, admittedly a little too callous near the end.

      Despite it, he let out a thoughtful hum. "Maybe," he quietly replied, as if he still carried a sense of doubt.

      "You share lunch with him?" I asked in an attempt to move on from the topic, forcing my tone to remain casual even as my palms begun to sweat.

      He eyed me, curiously searching my expression. "Yeah, I do," he said before slowly shutting his locker.

      There was no way he had seen me, right?

      Deciding to ignore his odd look, I leaned against the locker beside his. "How many classes do you guys even have together? He seems to be on pretty friendly terms with you," I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

      He quirked an eyebrow, taking a moment to slide his sneakers on. "Four, I believe. We sit next to each other in Mrs. Kurtz class," he explained.

      My heart dropped to my stomach in a roaring tumble. "Great," I muttered through a frown. Just one more thing for me to constantly worry about.

      A small smirk pulled at his lips, and he slid a hand up my arm. "Eren, you have nothing to be afraid of. He's just a friend," he assured.

      I sighed, dropping my head. "I know," I muttered, though it did nothing to quell my worry.

      He looped his arm through mine, looking up at me. "Come on," he said, and I couldn't help but allow a tiny smile to lift my mouth as we left the locker room.

      Coach Shadis had set up the volleyball net, which half the class groaned at upon walking into the gymnasium. Levi and I, on the other hand, were admittedly a little too excited. It was no secret we were equally as competitive, and any time Coach Shadis subjected us to team sports, we never ceased to become the most intense people in the room.

      Sometimes Coach liked to see us play against each other for his own sense of sick amusement, but today he seemed to prefer maintaining the peace. Both myself, Levi, and Jean were all playing on the same team.

      After Thanksgiving break, Jean had returned to school. He was still off—he didn't talk much, he barely spoke to his friends, even Connie, and often stalked around on his own. But I knew exactly what that was like, so I had even begun to garner a sense of sympathy for him.

      Levi wouldn't let up on encouraging me to talk to him, insisting he needed a friend that wasn't just going to give up at the first sign of trouble, but I was still reluctant. I wasn't sure if it was just my anxiety or the fact that Jean and I had always been on mutual arch-nemesis terms, but the idea had slowly been growing easier to imagine after his initial wrath of sudden explosions had dwindled to obvious depression.

      The game soon began, and the ball started flying through the air as soon as Coach Shadis blew the whistle. Volleyball was a lot harder to cheat during using my powers, as the trajectory of the ball was usually always too risky to tamper with.

      So, I had to rely on my average skill alone, which was admittedly sub-par, but that didn't mean I wouldn't take it as seriously.

      Levi was practically dive-bombing each shot. I was thankful he was on my team for more reasons than just the fact that I got to hug him whenever the round reset—but every time the ball came his way, he wouldn't even come close to missing it. And when he sent it to the other team, he did it with such vigor I wouldn't have been surprised if the ball caught on fire on its way down.

      Some of the people on the other team were hardly trying, either because they didn't care or they didn't feel it was worth it due to Levi's wrath, but a couple—like Connie, Sasha, and Annie—were still giving it their all.

      I couldn't help but admire him whenever he would twist his body to land a shot, or jump almost two feet to slam the ball back down over the net, his shirt lifting a couple of inches as he traversed through the air. It was so hot how passionate he was when it came to winning, even now I still thought about the way he'd taken me out during dodgeball when we first met. Even though that had pissed me off to no end, looking back on it, I was glad he had been the first person to ever win against me.

      When I noticed the ball was falling toward me after Sasha had returned it, I angled the sides of my hands to hit it to Levi. Without hesitation, he sprang toward it, jumping up to hit it over the net before it could bounce.

      However, after his fist came in contact with the ball and he slammed it down to the polished flooring, a loud, deafening pop rang through the room.

      The entire gym went silent. The ball didn't roll away, nor even move. Instead, it remained planted where it had landed, slowly deflating into a pathetic, flat saucer.

      "What the fuck?" Connie was the first person to break the dead silence.

      "Did it just... pop?" Mina asked quietly.

      Even Coach Shadis was bewildered, staring at the ball with an eyebrow-less glare before blowing his whistle. "That's game. Team One wins," he said.

      Sasha whined. "But that should be a foul!" She tossed her hands to the side and slouched. It didn't really matter, anyway, we were sixteen to three. Everyone knew who was going to win.

      Coach seemed to agree. "Push-up's, now," he ordered, ignoring her.

      The entire class groaned and muttered their disapproval before dispersing. I blinked, still processing what had happened, my lips parted as all I could do was gape in shock. I finally looked over at Levi, who appeared equally as confused, brows pinched together with a disgruntled expression. I sauntered over to him with an amused smirk plastered on my face, one hand thrown on my hip.

      "Did you literally just hit the ball so hard that you popped it?" I asked, even though the answer was lying dead in front of us.

      Levi scoffed, crossing his arms. "Obviously the ball already had a tear. I hit it like I normally would," he said dismissively before biting the inside of his cheek.

      "So, like a monster," I flatly replied. He glared up at me, lifting a fist to lightly punch me in the arm. I raised my hands to shield myself with a chuckle.

      "No, like a person who wants to win. That ball wouldn't last a second in the olympics," he said with a huff, glaring at the now deflated ball that Coach Shadis picked up off the floor.

      "This was brand new," he muttered, and I looked over at Levi with raised, knowing eyebrows.

      "Or maybe you're just abnormally strong," I teased.

      "And maybe you're just abnormally stupid," he quickly shot back.

      I grinned, pulling him closer and wrapping my arms around his waist. He was clearly pouting, keeping his arms glued to his chest as he looked away. "Aw, c'mon, I'm sorry," I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

      He looked up, narrowing his eyes at me before relaxing. "Want to know how you can make it up to me?" he asked suspiciously. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was insinuating what I assumed. We were right in the middle of the gymnasium, after all.

      He seemed to be able to read the look on my face, rolling his eyes with a scoff. "Not like that." He nodded toward the end of the gym, and I followed his gesture to see Jean doing push-up's on his own by the bleachers, distanced from everybody else in the room.

      "Really?" I whined, looking down at Levi with a miserable expression.

      "Yes, really. He didn't even cheer when our team won, and it's Jean," he said matter-of-factly.

      I sighed, lulling my head back. "Yeah, you're right, that's pretty weird," I muttered.

      He looked up at me with a smirk. "I always am. You should ask him to hang out after school."

      I quickly looked down at him. "But we had plans," I said anxiously.

      He didn't waste time before nodding. "I know, and we'll still keep them. There are plenty of hours left in the day. Who knows, he might even decline," he said with a shrug.

      Before I could reply, Coach Shadis blew his whistle. "Jaeger, Ackerman. Push-ups, now, before I make you do laps instead," he snapped.

      Connie raised his hand, panting in a crumpled heap on the floor. "Uh, Coach, I would prefer laps," he said, exasperated as his voice barely echoed through the room.

      "Shut up, Springer," Coach Shadis muttered before walking away, and Connie groaned, letting his head fall back against his mat as Sasha laughed at him.

༄༄࿐

      Levi wouldn't let me put off talking to Jean as soon as we'd changed back into our regular clothes. So, after I grabbed my backpack and kissed him goodbye—once he promised me I'd see him later—I forced myself to jog over to Jean before he could make his quick escape. "Hey," I called out to him.

      Jean froze, slowly turning around with a quizzical expression and looking everywhere but at me for a solid three seconds until I came to a stop.

      When his eyes finally did land on me, he practically grimaced. "What the hell do you want?" he snapped, and I sighed. Great start.

      "Well hello to you, too." Oh god, I sounded like an overdramatic mom saying that. I cleared my throat, rubbing my palms on my jeans. "Anyway, I was just wondering if you wanted to like, hang out, or whatever," I awkwardly continued, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

      His upper lip curled up as he jerked his head back. "What, are you trying to get into my pants or something?"

      My jaw dropped, and I was so utterly shocked by what he'd asked that a dry laugh was forced from me. "What the fuck? I'd literally rather get hit by a car and die," I said scathingly.

      He shut his mouth in surprise, as if he hadn't been expecting that, blinking and looking off to the floor. "Well, damn," he muttered, and I failed to realize how harsh I had sounded until now.

      I tried to backtrack while I still could, sighing. "Okay, that was, like, a lot, but—who the fuck asks that?" I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

      "Well—what the fuck do you mean by 'hang out?'" he asked, using air quotations on either side of his head.

      I shrugged my shoulders in with a quizzical expression. "What the fuck do you mean 'what do I mean?' Have you never been asked to hang out before?" I snapped.

      He paused for a moment before sneering at me. "Fuck off," he grumbled before beginning to turn around and walk away.

      "Wait—shit," I muttered. If I completely fumbled on this my first try, I'd never hear the end of it from Levi. I had to at least try, for him. I didn't want to risk him thinking that Farlan would easily be able to do this instead.

      Much to my relief, even though he had absolutely no reason to, Jean stopped and faced me again, a frown etched on his face.

      "I'm not good at this shit. If you can't tell, I have like, literally no friends," I blankly stated.

      He raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "Yeah, no, I can tell," he flatly replied.

      "Ouch," I mumbled. "I guess I deserved that." I looked down at the floor between us, nibbling on my bottom lip before I thought of something.

      "Do you... wanna play basketball at the Rec' Center?" I cautiously asked, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

      His expression pinched, and I half expected him to laugh in my face and leave. I wouldn't have blamed him to be fair, I clearly had no idea what I was doing.

      "Why are you suddenly trying to be all buddy-buddy with me? I thought you hated me," he said.

      I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "I thought you hated me! Ever since I wouldn't join the basketball team years ago, you started being an asshole."

      "'Cause I just assumed you thought you were better than everyone else!" he bit back. That, I did know, but I never cared enough to contradict him—nor did I have the chance to, considering he had never expressed it verbally until now.

      "Dude, I'm just not good with teams. You'd probably throw me out the second day of practice, anyway," I said more calmly this time. It was true—as good as I could be at basketball due to my abilities, I'd never be able to get past the hurdle of having to work well with others.

      He grumbled, but finally seemed to ease up. He uncrossed his arms and pushed his hair back, huffing before looking off to the side. "Fine. But only for an hour, I gotta be somewhere," he muttered.

      Even though he clearly sounded reluctant, I was relieved I wouldn't have to wait long before seeing Levi again, so I smiled subconsciously. "That's cool. You wanna walk there?" I asked. The Recreational Center was only a few blocks away from the school, so there was really no point in driving. I also wasn't too keen on admitting to him that I didn't drive.

      "Alright," he mumbled, and we silently headed to the gate as I pulled out my phone.

we r going to the rec center on pine avenue

That's great. I'm proud of you

      I bit my lip on a giddy smile as I read over the text, gratification swelling my chest. I noticed Jean glancing at me in my peripheral, but he didn't comment, soon looking down at the ground with an unreadable expression.

༄༄࿐

Levi

      "Hey, Connie," I called just as I watched him breach the school's front gate.

      He turned to me, initially perplexed before meeting my eyes and giving me a small, altruistic smile. "Yo, Levi. Crazy what you did with the ball earlier. What's up?" he asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

      Ignoring his comment about the volleyball, I anxiously nibbled on the inside of my cheek, resting my elbow on one airborne hand and wondering if I really wanted to do this. Despite the foreboding unease in my stomach, I knew my mind wouldn't be reconciled without the truth.

      "You went to the bathroom at lunch today, right? Did you happen to see Eren when you came back?" I asked, swallowing down the sudden soupiness that had clogged my throat.

      Connie quirked an eyebrow, craning his head back as he looked up to the shrouded sky in a painful process of thought. "Uhh... yeah, actually, I did. He was standing outside the door and looked like he was gonna shit himself. I thought it was weird, but didn't really think anything of it. Figured he came to see you," he explained, looking down at me again.

      The pit of unease in my gut sprouted into a sapling of envisaged dread, and I gave him a slight, beholden smile as I nodded stiffly. "Alright, thanks," I muttered.

      "Yep," he chirped, blissfully unaware before he turned around and headed toward the parking lot to meet Sasha.

      I let out a heavy, confused breath, feeling myself droop where I stood as my arms fell to my sides. They hung limply as I struggled to process an innumerable amount of thoughts all at once, all-the-while attempting to bury the claws of impossibility beginning to creep up on me.

༄༄࿐

Eren

      After Jean and I made it to the Rec' Center, we checked in before heading straight for the court. Unfortunately, it was outdoors, which meant we'd have to deal with the bitter cold, but moving around while playing should be enough to get our blood pumping and warm us up.

      I grabbed a tightly inflated ball from the storage and bounced it on the black asphalt, satisfied by the sounds of impact it made with the ground. Jean idled in the center of the court, a perturbed expression on his face. If I were to be honest with myself, I couldn't remember the last time he looked genuinely content.

      I wasn't sure exactly what to talk about, as all we had ever done was throw insults at each other, so I relied on the game to carry us to mutual success. I passed him the ball without warning, and unsurprisingly, he caught it with ease. "Take a shot," I suggested, gesturing to it, and he looked up at the net before taking a few steps back. He slightly bent his knees before straightening himself up, throwing his arms above his head and tossing the ball.

    It carried through the air before swishing through the net without protest, and I nodded with an impressed downturn of my lips, heading toward the basket.

      "Do you want to play college basketball, too?" I decided to ask first. I manhandled the ball when it dropped to the ground, bouncing it a few times before beginning to maneuver around Jean. Realizing the actual game was starting, he rose his guard, tightening his stance as I looped back to the net.

      When I tried to move past him, he snatched the ball from me, twisting his body and taking another shot. It spun on the metal rim before going in, and he let out a satisfied sigh before reaching for it as it fell. "I don't know yet. A few coaches have been to some of our games the last few months and seemed interested, but it's kind of a risky path to go down, you know?" he answered as he bounced the ball back to the center of the court.

      "Yeah, I get that. You still have time, though. Just because you might go into college playing doesn't mean you have to play forever," I replied.

      He began to pass the ball between his legs as he tried to get past me, and I quickly braced myself for any sudden movements as I guarded the path to the net.

      I shuffled over when he tried to go for my left side, then he attempted to fake me out by lifting his arms to my right. I was prepared for that, however, and snatched the ball from his hands before he could tighten his grip. I dribbled it around him before spinning, keeping my back to him as I closed in on the basket. When I had a clear shot, I took it, aiming as close to the net as I could. Realizing it looked like it was going to miss by a hair, I slightly changed its trajectory, and it landed on the rim before bouncing inside.

    "Yeah, I guess you're right," he replied, shuffling over to the ball.

      Whenever I had something good going for me, I had a knack for picking just the right thing to say that would absolutely ruin it. Today was no different, and due to my lapse of judgement, my curiosity got the better of me.

      "So, like, why were you gone from school for so long?" I asked.

      He raised his eyebrow at me, and when our eyes locked, I couldn't help but read his mind. I had a feeling he was going to lie, so I took preventative measures to ensure I left here with the truth.

      However, his thoughts of why I was butting his nose in his business, what false story to come up with, and the anxiety that clouded him were hardly of any concern.

      It was the thoughts and images that existed behind them.

      Jean had been hospitalized for trying to kill himself.

      That wasn't the only thing thats had happened while he was gone. His dad had beat the absolute shit out of him, and it looked like that was before the attempt had been made.

      God, I knew his dad was a piece of shit, but what the actual fuck?

      "Dude, this isn't gonna be some scene out of a movie where I tell you all this personal shit just cause we're playing ball," he muttered, bouncing the basketball in front of him before tossing it to the basket again.

      I blinked when the scene was torn away from me, eyes wide and lips parted on cold air. It took me moments to collect myself, swallowing thickly as I cleared my throat. "Uh, yeah, no, I know. Stupid question," I muttered. He eyed me oddly, but didn't comment, tossing the ball in my direction.

      I barely caught it, lost in thought as I tried to take a shot. No wonder he had been gone for so long. Not only did the bruises his dad had given him have to fade, but he couldn't be trusted with his own life without being guarded twenty-four-seven.

      Why the fuck didn't the hospital do anything about his bruises? Wouldn't a kid who tried to kill himself littered with black and blue marks seem a little suspicious? I didn't have the whole story, so it was difficult to piece things together, but none of it made any sense.

      The ball missed the net, and I was too preoccupied to try Telekinetically altering it. Cutting my losses, we paused the game and simply took turns trying to get it in. Jean made it more often than not, but most of the time I challenged myself to see how many times I could get it in without using my powers, his circumstance constantly floating in the back of my mind.

      The air between us was significantly less tense the more we played, even as I dwelled over what to do with the information I had found out. I had no proof—I couldn't tell anyone of importance without it, and there was no way Jean would ever come clean even if I did bring up the bruises I'd seen in the locker room a while ago.

      Suddenly, my head begun to throb. I winced, bringing a hand to my temples. It felt scarily similar to how I'd felt at the clinic, yet significantly less intense.

      "You good, dude?" Jean asked, turning to me with the ball in his hand.

      I nodded despite the pain. "Yeah, I just realized I haven't eaten today yet and I think it's finally catching up to me," I said. With the headache, a weight of exhaustion began to settle over my bones. I guess my body finally decided it had enough of my irresponsible behavior.

      Jean gawked at me. "What are you, a fucking idiot? Here." He shook his head and walked to his backpack, tucking the ball under his arm as he unzipped it.

      He pulled out a sizable bar, turning before tossing it in my direction. Surprised, I caught it, looking down to see that it was a chocolate protein one.

      "Thanks," I muttered, genuinely grateful despite how unexpected it was. He merely nodded before returning to the basket, taking the opportunity to get the ball in as I scarfed the bar down.

      It was enough to momentarily rejuvenate me, and after a few more attempts at making it in the net, we switched to passing the ball back and forth to each other from across the court.

      A couple of minutes in, Jean broke the silence. "So, you and Levi, huh?"

      I blinked, the question catching me off guard as the ball hit my stomach. I grunted, and Jean huffed through his nose as I scrambled to stop it from bouncing away.

      "What happened to no personal shit?" I asked with a raised eyebrow after composing myself and tossing it back.

      He scoffed. "You two are practically glued to each other. Trust me, there's nothing secret about what you guys have going on," he said dryly.

      I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny that he had a point. "Whatever, dude. What about us?" I asked as I caught the ball.

      "Nothing, man. Just... you seem happier. And I kinda wasn't expecting it," he said.

      Bored of the game, I walked closer to the basket and prepared another shot. "What, me being into dudes?" I said with a snort.

      He tucked his arms together. "Uh, sort of, I guess. No offense, I also didn't really expect you to meet anyone else before graduation. Ever since..."

      I narrowed my eyes at him with a knowing expression, drawing him silent. He took my glare as enough of a warning to shut the hell up, and caught the ball when I aggressively tossed it to him. "Sorry, man," he said regretfully.

      "You're good," I muttered as he backed up to make a three-pointer. He missed, which he cursed at, but I jogged to catch the ball before it could roll away.

      I tossed it back at him to give him another chance. "I wasn't expecting it either, to be honest. It just kind of... happened," I said with a shrug. The thought of Levi pulled a small smile at the edges of my lips, which Jean clearly took notice of.

      "Can I ask you a question?" he carefully began. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, gluing them to the floor as he held the ball with tight hands.

      "If it's about gay sex, I haven't gotten that far," I joked.

      He cringed, bringing one hand to the bridge of his nose as he tucked the ball under his other arm. "No, dumbass," he said in an exasperated tone, and I couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.

      He looked uncomfortable, lips pursed as he dropped his hand and seemed to ruminate over what he wanted to say. I was hoping the joke I made wasn't what bothered him, but before I could think to ask, he quietly spoke up.

      "How did you know you were gay?"

      I raised my eyebrows, watching his demeanor suddenly turn sheepish as he rapidly glanced between me and the ground between us.

      Oh. Oh.

      I mean, from reading Jean's mind in the past I knew he struggled with thoughts that were on the not-so-straight spectrum, but I figured that was something every straight man probably went through as some point.

      But to come to me for advice? He must be in deeper shit than I thought.

      I considered the question for a moment, wondering if there was any deeper truth behind the answer. But honestly, what I knew at surface level was all the truth that I needed.

      "When I met Levi," I responded honestly.

      He quirked an eyebrow, appearing surprised by the statement. "Really? It was as easy as that? You didn't, like... question anything beforehand or wonder if you were even into him?" he asked cautiously.

      I shook my head, lips downturned. "I mean, we had a rocky start, and I thought it was just playful banter for a while, but there came a point where I couldn't deny I was attracted to him. I just knew, deep down, you know? Sometimes you just have to own it." I wasn't sure why I was suddenly getting all deep and philosophical with Jean of all people, but he seemed to appreciate my explanation, nodding with a thoughtful expression.

      "Cool, cool," he said dismissively, returning to bouncing the ball and going for another shot. I rolled my eyes with a small smirk, but took his response as enough confirmation that I had done my part.

༄༄࿐

      As expected, we were only there for about an hour before Jean anxiously returned to school to drive home. Levi picked me up from the Rec' Center in the Ford, which I was excited about, sliding in with a grin and a giddy pat to my thighs.

      Levi smirked, amused by my enthusiasm. "I'm guessing it went well considering you don't want to punch the window?" he said before pulling off from the curb and out of the parking lot.

      "That went way better than I expected. You were right about us being more alike than I thought," I told him.

      "I know I was," he said smugly. "In what ways did you find that out?" He pulled onto the main road and began heading in the direction of our neighborhood.

      "Well, like, I'm pretty sure he's gay," I said, the words still surprising even as I said them.

      Levi raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Should I be worried?" he asked.

      I snorted. "Fuck no. I accidentally told him I'd rather die than sleep with him, actually. Anyway—he asked me about us, and then for like, advice on how I knew I was into guys. It was bizarre," I explained.

      "I'm not gonna ask why you ended up accidentally telling him that, but, it sounds like he really needed someone to talk to," he said, reaching over and patting my thigh.

      "I guess so," I said with a shrug.

      "Did you guys talk about anything else?" he asked as he made a right turn.

      I was grievously reminded of what I'd learned Telepathically. That was a heavy burden to carry that I knew I wouldn't be able to shoulder with someone else—not even with Levi.

      Levi was stubborn, insistent, and was passionate about injustice. He would want to do everything he could to get the authorities involved with Jean, and I couldn't risk putting him in that position—nor working my way around a lie that explained how I even found out.

      "Not really, we mostly just talked about random shit and played ball," I decided to say.

      Levi hummed. "Well, I'm glad you guys had a good time. Maybe you can make this a regular thing," he suggested.

      "I wouldn't be opposed to it. He seemed to really like playing," I said. I enjoyed myself a lot more than I had expected to. I initially assumed it was going to be a drag, just something I had to force myself to get through for Jean and Levi's sake. But truthfully, I had a feeling Jean and I could get along relatively well together if we tried hard enough.

      We arrived at Levi's house a few minutes later, and when we walked past the living room, we noticed Kenny was dead asleep on the couch, snoring as some kind of soap opera played on the flatscreen. TenSoon was on the other end of the couch, lifting his giant head to look at us curiously.

      Levi ignored him, leading me to his bedroom, where he quietly pushed the door open and let me inside.

      It was as immaculate as ever, though that never changed. In the several times I'd been in here, I don't think I've seen a single item out of place or a strewn article of clothing on the floor. Throughout finals, some of his books and notes had been laid out on his desk, but even those were always kept in neatly organized stacks.

      "You know, I'm really thankful that you went out of your comfort zone for me today," Levi begun after I set my backpack down by the door, walking up to me.

      "Mmm, if I knew you would have been so thankful, I would have done it sooner," I teased, sliding my arms around his waist as he climbed his hands up my shoulders.

      "I bet you would have. In fact, I'm so thankful, that maybe you deserve a reward for it." He tickled the back of my neck with his fingers, curling one around a lock of my hair and sending a chill down my spine.

      "Yeah?" I asked as he stood on his toes, running my tongue over the back of my teeth.

      "Absolutely," he whispered before pulling me down, pressing our lips together. It was all tongue from the start, our mouths parting to join with one another in a languid dance. I pulled him against me, running my hand up his back and tangling my fingers in his hair. He seemed to have other plans, turning us around as we kissed until my back faced the bed. He disconnected our lips before bracing his hands on my shoulders and pushing me back, watching me fall on the bed with a grunt.

      I looked up at him as he pulled off his shirt and began to crawl on top of me. My mouth grew dry when he prowled over my lap as if I were his prey. I laid back against the pillows once he straddled me, grabbing his hips while he leaned down and ran his tongue up the shell of my ear.

      A shiver coursed through me, and at the same time, his delicate voice caressed my ear. "I want you. Completely this time," he whispered.

      I groaned, feeling how the words ignited a fiery heat between my legs. "I, actually—" I grunted, beginning to sit up straighter and attempting to ignore the way he shifted against my growing erection.

      "What?" he breathed, pulling back and looking at me with confused, dazed eyes.

      "I think we should wait until your eighteenth," I told him honestly, the haze wearing off as reality began to sink in.

      He blinked at me with blank eyes, as if he was struggling to even process my words. After a moment of silence, when he realized I was serious, he scoffed. "Eren. I lost my virginity when I was fourteen. It's not like it'll be anything new," he stated matter-of-factly.

      I felt myself frown, glancing off to the side. "It'll be new with me," I muttered quietly.

      Levi sighed, lifting his hands and cupping either side of my jaw. He turned my head to face him again before replying. "I know. I'm glad it'll be with you. But why do you want to wait?" he asked, brows pressed between his eyes.

      I glanced down at our laps between us. "It was on my mind for a while, and, it's just—a bit weird, I guess. Thinking about it and teasing each other about it is one thing, but I'll be twenty soon," I stated quietly.

      He shook his head at me. "But it isn't even illegal. Romeo and Juliette law, remember?" he explained.

      "I know, I know. It would just make me feel better," I insisted. "This is my first actual relationship. I just want to do things right, you know?"

      He seemed to have expected me to relent and give in, as he looked at me with eyes narrowed in disbelief.

      He leaned back, still on my lap, but folded his arms over his chest. "I'm surprised you even care," he muttered as he looked off at the wall. The bratty tone he used and his slight frown took me by surprise. Was he pouting right now?

      I couldn't help but smirk at the thought, rubbing his exposed sides. "Oh come on, it's just a couple of weeks away. You can wait that long, right? Or am I just that irresistible?" I teased, leaning forward and resting my chin on his shirtless chest. I looked up at him with big eyes, ones I knew he couldn't resist.

      Only, he looked down at me and scoffed, unamused as he kept his hands to himself. "You wish," he grumbled.

      At first I thought he was putting on an act, but I was starting to think he might genuinely be upset. I leaned back, confused. "Is this actually bothering you?" I asked. He remained silent, keeping his eyes glued to the wall, and I scoffed.

      "What, are you gonna go fuck someone else in the meantime?" I asked hotly. He was taken aback, lip slightly curled with disgust as he jerked his head to look at me. But the fact that he was so bothered by waiting merely a couple of weeks was rubbing me the wrong way. Wondering if he was even capable of waiting had been one of my biggest concerns. And if he couldn't, would he just replace me with someone else?

      Instead of reassuring me, he tilted his chin up. "What if I did?" he tested.

      I was immediately swarmed with thoughts of Farlan, of him claiming Levi as his own—of someone else with their hands on what was mine.

      Jealousy overcame me, and before I knew it, I lifted a hand to roughly cup his entire jaw. "I'd fucking kill them," I growled. Levi immediately moaned, and I could feel him instantaneously grow harder against my hips as one of his hands came up and pressed my hand tighter around him.

      "Yeah? Would you?" he panted, and I pulled him forward by his jaw and crushed my lips against his. He kissed me back with fervor, lifting his hand to tangle into my hair. Reminding me what he'd done to me in the bathroom at Thanksgiving, I mirrored him, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back until we separated. His lips parted, and he grabbed the hand I had around his jaw and slowly moved it further down his neck.

      I watched cautiously as he tightened my hand around his throat, gaging my response, and I looked up into his eyes as clarity began to ground me. "You're into that?" I breathed, glancing down at the way my hand tantalizingly covered the pale skin of such a vulnerable area.

      He released some of the pressure I had around his neck, panting. "I told you, I'm into a lot of things," he said, sliding his bottom lip between his teeth.

      "I think, if we're gonna pick things up on Christmas, it's about time I found out what those things were," I replied, caressing the space beneath his ear with my thumb.

      He released my hand with a sigh, and in response, I let go of his hair. I slid my hand down to his collarbone, tucking a lock behind his ear with the other.

      "Wellll..." he dragged out, searching my expression. "What do you know about BDSM?"

      I blinked, huffing a small laugh through my nose. "I mean, the basics I guess?" I said with a shrug. There wasn't that much to know about, right? Just that it was kinky as hell.

      However, he didn't seem to think this was an acceptable enough answer. "Do you even know what the abbreviation stands for?" he asked, eyebrow quirked up in suspicion. I trailed my eyes off to the side, positive that I would be able to conjure the definition if I looked at a wall. It had to be buried somewhere.

      Upon rummaging and finding nothing of value, I gave it my best shot. "Bondage... Daddy... something, something?" I tried.

      He rolled his eyes. "So, that's a prodigious no," he said dryly.

      I chuckled. "It can't be that hard to understand," I told him, mindlessly stroking his silk-like hair.

      "It's not, but it's best to know what you're getting into before you attempt it. You have to know if it's something you're even interested in trying. Not everybody is," he explained.

      "Okay, well, tell me." I would ensure I was as prepared as possible to satisfy him when the time came.

      "It's a lot to dissect right now. I'm shirtless in my bed with a man who doesn't want to have sex, so I think I'm going to salvage any remaining ounce of my dignity and get dressed. Tomorrow we'll do a different kind of studying. Come to my house around four, okay?"

      He tapped my nose with his index finger, and I scrunched my face at him with a sigh. "Fine. If it's any excuse to not have to do actual schoolwork, I'll take it," I conceded.

      "Good boy," he muttered. I shot my eyes up to look at him, and he smirked at me with a sly wink before sliding off of my lap and walking to his dresser.

      "You're the worst," I grumbled before flopping back against the pillows. After a moment of silence, I frowned. “You wouldn’t actually fuck someone else if I wanted to wait, would you?” I felt embarrassed for asking, but I couldn’t help it. One inkling of doubt and I would find myself overthinking for weeks.

      He looked over at me with eyes softer than before. “Of course not, Eren. That’s not ever something you have to worry about,” he assured. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like that, but I couldn’t help myself.”

      I sighed, relieved. Honestly, I wasn’t that mad that he had tested me. He’d brought to the surface a dynamic between us that I was more than willing to dip my feet in.

Chapter Text

Preparation

༄༄࿐

      "I said I didn't fucking do it!" he screamed, clutching the side of the table as red clouded his eyes. That... wasn't his own voice.

      "Cause you're a goddamn liar, you fucking piece of shit," another voice he didn't recognize boomed, trembling through the walls that caged them.

      The next thing he knew, he was punched to the floor. He gasped, clutching the side of his face, yet he didn't feel any pain.

      Darkness enveloped him as the ground crumbled to dust. Screams of loss, of repentance, of terror echoed around him until it was all he could hear, deafening him from the inside as if they existed in his very being.

      When did he start falling? His limbs were flailing uncontrollably while jagged wind whipped at his skin, tearing into his flesh. Soon, the murky clouds he reached for begun to dissipate, a blinding white light searing through his eyes.

      Long brown hair materialized and fell around his face, and when he hit the floor, a piercing gunshot was synchronized with the horrific crunch of his bones.

…

      I woke up with a gasp, lurching forward with my palms braced on the sheets beneath me, nails digging into the mattress. When I realized I couldn't see anything, I panicked, lifting a hand and tossing my hair back from where it fell in front of my face.

      Light slowly filtered through my eyes as I blinked, reality beginning to sink in as my bedroom lay eerily still. I turned my head and looked through my window, noticing the faintest hints of pale blues and yellows beginning to creep in over the suburbs. I groaned, flopping back down onto my bed and throwing an exhausted hand over my face. It was fucking dawn? My brain had no right doing this to me during finals week.

      That dream had been so weird... it felt so real despite it being a mess of visual chaos.

      I tended to have odd, fucked-up dreams on occasion, chalking it up to a potential Telepathy side-effect, but I didn't even feel like myself during whatever that was. Not until the end, at least. It felt like I was merely an outsider, peering in on a life that wasn't my own. Yet, I couldn't recognize any faces. It was all a dark, measly blur that somehow felt like an alternate version of what I knew.

      Whatever. None of it mattered now. I had to try to get a couple more hours of sleep so I could function later in the day. After all, Levi and I did have an extra 'class' after school to attend. 

༄༄࿐

      Since Levi didn't want me to come over to his house until four—as he had to prepare, whatever that meant—I had a free afternoon once school let out. Farlan hadn't been at Levi's locker this morning, thank god, so getting through the day had been significantly easier. The fucker still never liked to look me in the eyes, as if he knew he was doing something wrong, so I hadn't even been able to answer any of my own questions about his intentions.

      Anxiety was still festering in the back of my mind, dwelling over their time spent in other periods together, yet I had so many tests that day I could hardly let myself think about anything else without risking failing the entire year. 

      After gym period was over, I was ready to relax and continue playing Black Myth: Wukong after walking home, but what I hadn't been expecting was for Jean to find me just outside of the locker rooms, instead.

      "I was, uh, wondering if you wanted to play ball at the Rec' again," he had asked.

      It took me seconds to realize that he was the one to ask me to go to the Rec' Center this time. Surprised—and honestly relieved I wasn't that unbearable to hang out with—I agreed, figuring the pastime was needed, anyway. I knew Levi would be happy to see us continuing to hang out without having to twist my arm, and after finding out what was happening to Jean at home, I figured he appreciated the company.

      Our time playing basketball was just as enjoyable as the day before, and significantly less awkward. He was feeling a lot more competitive, less dead inside, which in turn riled me up alongside him. Even with the passive insults and the jabs taken at one another when one of us would grab the ball or miss a shot, they were playful rather than malicious. We got along surprisingly well, and I was beginning to realize I could potentially be in the midst of making a new platonic friend for the first time in... over a decade.

      Wow.

      I didn't expect us to keep in touch long after graduation considering he had plans to go to college. But the reconciliation was appreciated, and I figured playing at the Rec’ Center was better than rotting away in my beanbag. 

      I noticed that Jean would spontaneously start texting in the middle of our game, and as irked as it made me at one point, the shock I felt once I noticed him slightly smile before pocketing his phone was enough for me to keep my mouth shut about it.

      Like yesterday, he could only play for an hour, which was just enough time for me before I would start getting antsy. We parted ways outside of the building, him heading back to school as I headed in the opposite direction to begin my trek home. He didn't offer me a ride, which I didn't blame him for—we probably weren't on 'giving a ride to the person who doesn't have a car' terms yet.

      Waiting out the last hour for Levi to be ready was easy—Black Myth: Wukong was one of the most immersive games I'd played in a while. I still had to finish Spider-Man 2, and Final Fantasy XVI, but that was beside the point.

      After brushing my hair—and my teeth, just for good measure—I headed downstairs. "I'm going to Levi's now," I told my parents as I idled at the kitchen doorway with my backpack slung over my shoulder. Knowing him, he'd force us to do some actual studying once we were finished with whatever he had planned.

      "But dinner will be ready in an hour," my mom said pointedly.

      "Ookay, well, this morning I told you I was going to his house after school, so..." I trailed off, my patience running thin as I itched to leave. For the one-hundredth time over, things had been tense since they basically told me I should die alone.

      "But I thought that was where you just came from?" she quizzically replied, vigorously stirring something that smelled like pasta sauce.

      "No, I played basketball at the Re’ Center with Jean," I deadpanned. These people never paid attention.

      "Who?" she turned to quietly ask Dad, who sat at the island while looking over some papers.

      He merely shrugged, too concentrated to bother, and I rolled my eyes before continuing to head to the front door. "I'll be back tonight," I said plainly.

      "Make sure you study!" Mom shouted before I shut the door behind me.

      After a brisk ten-minute walk bundled up in my coat, I arrived at Levi's, knocking on the door before grabbing the straps of my backpack and anxiously shifting on my feet.

      A few seconds later, the door was unlocked and pulled open. I glanced up as Kenny stood in front of me, a deep frown etched onto his face.

      A moment passed where neither of us moved or said a word. I had no idea what he was expecting from me—it wasn't often he opened the door when I came over, as Levi was usually prepared to beat him to it, for my sake.

      After clearing my throat, I finally tore through the unbearable silence. "I'm, um, here to see Levi," I muttered awkwardly, hesitant to make eye-contact.

      His jaw dropped with a dramatic gasp, and he lifted a hand to place on his head. "Oh my god, you're here to see Levi?! Well, why didn't you say anything?! Come on in!" His expression instantly deadpanned, and he left the door wide open as he turned on his heels and stalked away.

      "Jesus Christ," I whispered under my breath, eyes wide as I stepped into the house. For a moment I was worried I would burst into flames, but when I was able to walk in unscathed, I released a heavy sigh and allowed my shoulders to relax.

      Ignoring Kenny's brazen hatred for me, as usual, I walked through the hallway and toward Levi's room. It was shut, which was confusing—hadn't he been expecting me?

      Lifting my hand, I tapped my knuckles against the door. "Come in," I heard a moment later. Curious, I twisted the knob, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

      I drew my eyebrows together when I realized it was dark. The lights were off and his blinds were drawn, allowing only the faintest slivers of daylight to creep into the room, casting lines of pale yellow across his bed and wooden floor.

      "Levi?" I mumbled cautiously, looking around. "Sit down on the bed." I jumped and jerked my head to my right, where Levi ominously stood, a wooden teachers pointer clutched in both of his hands.

      "...What's going on?" I asked in a wary tone, slowly stepping further into the room.

      "Class is beginning," he vaguely stated. "Now, sit down on the bed."

      After giving him a bewildered stare, I obeyed, shuffling over to the edge of the bed and cautiously sitting down, as if it would implode beneath me. A moment later, a blinding light shone in front of me, and I squinted as a bright image suddenly projected over the blank wall.

      "You have a projector?" I asked—because who just has one lying around?

      "Mrs. Kurtz let me borrow it for the day when I told her I had a passion project," he answered from somewhere behind me. Damn, he must be doing really well in that class for Mrs. Kurtz to allow him to borrow her projector.

      "When you said we'd be doing a different kind of studying, I didn't think you'd go this far," I said with a shocked scoff.

      "Shh," he quickly hushed. "Now, I spent hours on this presentation. You're going to watch and listen to everything I tell you. Don't interrupt me. If you have any questions, hold them until I ask "any questions?" By the end of the presentation, we’ll review everything you’ve learned and thoroughly discuss what you are and aren't comfortable with. Understood?"

      I blinked, startled as he walked from the corner of the room to the space beside the projected image, standing in front of his laptop. It sat on a stool he had previously prepared that I hadn't noticed before.

      His tone left no room for argument, so with a nervous nod of my head, he moved the pointer to one hand and smacked it against the wall beside him. Above the pointer read in bold letters, "BDSM - Bondage, Discipline, Dominance, Submission, Sadism, Masochism."

       "I would have never gotten that far," I muttered under my breath. Who would have guessed six words existed in a four-letter abbreviation?

      Levi shot me with a pointed stare, but didn't comment, proceeding to read the abbreviation aloud. "Today, we will be discussing each of these categories and what they mean," he continued.

      "But I already know what they mean," I proclaimed. He narrowed his eyes at me, as if daring I spoke again. Shrinking on the bed beneath his vehement gaze that terrifyingly mirrored his uncle's, I clamped my lips shut, and he took that as a sign that I would behave. This side of him was beginning to turn me on, but I wouldn't dream of admitting that right now.

      "Definition: 'Sexual activity involving such practices as the use of physical restraints, the granting and relinquishing of control, and the infliction of pain,' as insinuated by its title," he continued, moving his pointer over the paragraph of information as he read it. He slid his hand over the laptop's keyboard, and a new image appeared on the wall. My eyebrows raised at the information that materialized in front of me. He had created an entire slideshow just for this.

      Why was that so unbelievably sexy?

      He moved his pointer to the first box of text. "With each category, I will be breaking down what they mean, appropriate examples, and how they pertain to my interests and preferences—starting with Bondage.

      "Physical restraints, such as rope, handcuffs, zip-ties, towels, bandages, and even clothes can all count as forms of bondage. These can be used on the hands, wrists, feet, legs, arms, or even the entire body." He moved to the next slide, and on it were images of various bondage positions and their titles. Most were your average cuffed-to-the-bed or wrists tied together with rope, but in one photo someone was even hog-tied, and in another someone wore an entire body harness made of rope. A couple of images had stars on their corners, and I was curious as to what they meant, but I could probably take a guess.

      "These here are perfect examples of what bondage can look like. Each starred image is a representation of what I prefer. As you can see, I am personally favorable of rope around my wrists. These can be performed in the following positions: hands behind my back, wrists tied together above my head, or wrists tied to the headrest." He moved his pointer to each respective image as he listed them.

      "It is crucial to invest in quality rope to prevent skin damage or irritation during long or aggressive sessions. It is also important to note that restricting your partner's body using your own, I.E. using your hands to hold your partner's wrists together, or threatening to stop pleasure if your partner moved in a certain way, can be considered a form of bondage that requires less investment and risk. It is also highly acceptable. Gags can be associated with sessions involving bondage, but that is not always the case. Gagging is related to other categories we will discuss at a later point, and is also only acceptable while using clean fingers, articles of clothing, or a sanitized ball-gag. I will kill you if neither of these requirements are met."

      I nodded rapidly upon his stern, inarguable tone. I couldn't deny the red flush had had spread across my cheeks since we began, yet with my hands folded on my lap, I remained silent and invested, eager to learn how to please him. The undeniable itch to interrupt, ask questions, or make comments the second a thought came to mind dug deep underneath my skin, but for him, I would remain as resilient as I could.

      Finally, he took a deep breath. "Any questions?" He turned to me, an excited, yet almost nervous glint in his eyes which reflected the projector's blue light, and I couldn't help but grin in return.

      "Do you want me to get the rope, or should you?" I cheekily asked, and he briefly broke character with a small smirk, relaxing the hand that held the pointer against the wall.

      "We can go together," he said, and my heart leapt with elation. "Perfect."

      He clicked onto the next slide with a firm nod, moving onto Discipline.

      It was a self-explanatory category, though I let him elaborate as much as he pleased. We mostly went over types of discipline, safe ways to perform them, and his personal favorite punishments. This included cock rings, edge play, and spanking on all parts of the body—except for the face he took care of, he made that very clear. He explained what generally warranted a punishment to be performed, ensuring I understood before moving on.

      "Dominance. Now, this is a big one, so pay attention," he strictly began when we moved onto the next category. I leaned forward, resting my hands on my knees, and carefully watched him move his pointer to the first paragraph. "You and I are both heavily involved in this category. There are different subcategories to the dominant aspect of BDSM, and not all belong to the primary top in the relationship," he continued.

      "Like when you pulled my hair in the bathroom," I couldn't help myself from commenting.

      He glanced at me pointedly. "I didn't ask for questions, but, yes, that is an appropriate example." I smiled sheepishly before he proceeded.

      "Now, with that being said, you will be the primary dominant in our relationship—and I'm never sticking my dick inside of you." I couldn't stop myself from giggling, but he seemed to find it just as funny, as a tiny smirk curled his lips for a mere moment before continuing. "I can be assertive depending on the mood I'm in, and we would mutually agree on behavior shifts beforehand unless we're feeling spontaneous, but as stated during previous categories, I prefer being the submissive—I prefer being used." The term sent a tingle of excitement through my spine and sprouted something dangerous in the pit of my stomach.

      "You're also much bigger than me, so power play is a large aspect of what our sexual relationship would consist of. The dominant often controls positioning, the actions their partner takes, as well as the pacing and severity of the session." He paused, looking at me with an intense, focused stare.

      "Eren, listen to me when I say this. I want you to manhandle me. I want you to treat me like a rag-doll. I don't use those terms lightly—I mean it. I wouldn't state it if I weren't absolutely positive."

      Despite my momentary shock, I quickly nodded in understanding, refusing to doubt the sincerity in his tone. Memories of our time in his bed yesterday came flooding back—how turned on he had become when I gripped his jaw and pulled him like it was nothing.

      "Grab me, throw me, slam me into the bed, treat me like I'm nothing. Don't hold back. That's how I like it. Now, if that's too intense for you, that's okay. At the moment, I'm just telling you what I like," he carefully explained. I swallowed, nodding again as I processed the weight his words carried.

      I could do this. I could give him what he wanted. I wouldn't allow myself to be afraid to satisfy him in every way possible.

      I would be good enough for him.

      "I know you're probably thinking that you're capable of all of that, but trust me, Eren, not everyone is." I felt my expression pinch, initially offended by his implication that I might not be able to do this. 

      However, Levi remained calm, looking at me with a profound expression. "For some people, it takes time to embody that kind of power over another human being. If you decide you want to do this, we'll go down that road together. Personally, I definitely think you have it in you, but we'll get there. Do you have any questions?"

      I blinked, realizing I was given the chance to speak. However, after all that I had heard, only one thought came to mind as I looked at him. "Have you always enjoyed this stuff?" I asked gently.

      He appeared taken aback by the question, arm relaxing as he looked down at the floor between us. "I... actually don't know when it started. It just happened, I suppose," he softly explained, thin brows drawn between his sterling eyes.

      I hummed, and he tightened his hand again. "Is that all?" he asked, tone much more reserved. I nodded in confirmation before he explained a few more details of what dominance entailed, then moved on to the next category.

      He explained submission as nearly the complete contrast to dominance, but strategically attempted to establish that they weren't mutually exclusive. It took me a few minutes to wrap my head around, and I asked more questions than I cared to admit, but ultimately I came to understand their respective differences.

      In more cases than not, Levi would be at my mercy, entirely at my will and as I pleased. I was beginning to realize how satiating this potential power dynamic might become for me.

      The Sadism category was brief. He stated that this was his weakest interest, and he didn't get off very much on others—in this case, me—being in a lot of pain unless the desire was verbally expressed. His one exception was me wearing a cock ring—which I had to quickly wrap my head around the idea of.

      He ensured we would loop back to this category once we discussed my comfort level with each one, and I attempted not to dwell on what my answer would be as he moved onto the next, and final, subject.

      "Masochism. Now, you'll notice as we go over this category that this includes a lot of what we've already discussed. Masochism is mutually related to many of the other categories and is often the backbone of BDSM play, yet it has its own unique properties. Unlike sadism, masochism is something I am very passionate about. If you recall me mentioning my disciplinary preferences, those are included in my masochistic interests. Most of these can be performed outside of punishments, like spanking, gagging, and orgasm denial.

      "Other preferences include aggressive hair pulling and deep biting on any part of the body, which are self-explanatory. Degrading is encouraged, you can literally call me anything you want—slut, whore, bitch, whatever suits the mood. A practice that is more important to discuss is lack of preparation. Women self-lubricate—I, in fact, do not. To prepare someone for anal sex, thorough fingering and a significant amount of lube is required. Without enough of either, it can be incredibly painful. Luckily for you, I'm not always against that. I'm not referring to zero prep—you'd probably tear my ass apart—but a minimal amount is acceptable. And lastly, always, always wear protection." He paused as I attempted not to giggle like a little kid again, a fist pressed up against my pursed smile.

      "Now, the final one I would like to thoroughly go over, which also happens to be my biggest kink, is choking."

      Raising my eyebrows, I bit my lip on a small and somewhat nervous smirk. I was wondering when we would get to this point. It was to be expected considering what happened on his bed yesterday, and I was excited to learn just exactly what this kink of his entailed.

      "Choking is a very serious subject. It's an incredibly popular BDSM practice, however, many people don't understand the extent of how important proper safety measures are.

      "Choking with an incorrect technique combined with miscommunication can easily lead to injury, losing consciousness, and in worse cases, death."

      I swallowed, my expression growing grim with worry at the unsettling statement. "But," he continued after noticing, "these can easily be avoided by remembering these simple, yet crucial rules. Communication: as the person being choked, I would be in charge of communicating the level of pressure you apply around my neck. A common practice would be to use my own hand, which would be wrapped around the wrist you're using." He paused, ensuring I was paying attention—which I was, I could hardly imagine myself losing focus at this point.

      "I could perform a certain number of taps with my finger; for example—one tap would tell you to squeeze harder, two taps would tell you to squeeze less, and three taps would tell you to let go completely. Or, I could squeeze your wrist in a series of pulses—the amount of pulses and what they mean would be in the same order as the taps explained previously. If you agreed to this, which of these two methods would you prefer?"

      I gaped like a fish upon realizing he had asked me a question before quickly getting myself together. "Uh–um–the tapping seems like it would be easier to notice," I answered.

      He replied with a satisfactory nod, ignoring my fumbling. "I agree. Obviously, remembering what each tap means is crucial. I will ensure we go over these and memorize them if you decide this is something you want to do. Now, the next important factor about choking is technique. This is your only homework assignment for this class."

      Upon the mention of homework, I gawked at the screen. He moved to a slide that showed a YouTube video titled How to Choke the Right Way: Sexual Safety 101, then continued to type on his laptop until my phone buzzed in my back pocket.

      "I just texted you the link to this video. Your assignment is to watch it as many times as you need, study it, and practice the hand positions displayed in the video. If you agree to doing this with me, we won't begin until you're confident you know how to perform it properly, understood?"

      I pulled out my phone, and sure enough, Levi had texted me the very same video projected onto the wall. "Got it," I said confidently before pocketing my phone again. A tiny, downturned smile pulled at his lips before he turned back to the slide.

      He returned to the very first page. "Alright, that concludes our lesson on BDSM. Do you have any questions before we move on to your preferences?"

      I hummed, my leg bouncing for a few seconds as I tried to think of anything. "Nope; I understand everything," I said. Levi raised an eyebrow, but didn't object.

      "Alright, well, if you think of anything, just let me know. The presentation is over, we just need to go over your comfort level with each category," he continued.

      "I'm okay with everything," I simply replied, leaning back with my hands against the bed.

      Levi looked at me, a doubtful expression pinching his features. " Really? Every single thing?" he asked, the pointer dangling in his hand.

      "All of it," I replied, not an inkling of hesitation to my tone.

      Levi visibly relaxed, nibbling on his bottom lip before huffing and leaning his weight on one hip. "Well, this was my first presentation outside of school, so we're going to go over them anyway. I don't want to feel like I've wasted my time," he said.

      "You didn't waste your time. This was the best presentation I've ever seen," I said through an honest grin. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't contain a small, pleased smile.

      He proceeded to repeat every single slide from the beginning, asking me how I felt about each one. To appease him, I patiently told him I was comfortable every time he needed to hear it. It was very redundant, but if it was what he wanted, I wouldn't even think of denying him. When we got to the final topic, choking, he was given my official agreement, and the slideshow came to an end once more.

      "Am I going to have to like, sign a contract now or something?" I joked, folding my arms over my chest.

      Levi scoffed. "This isn't Fifty-Shades Of Grey. However, it does mean that we now have to agree on a safe-word. A safe-word is what I will announce when it's time to immediately stop. During a session, you won't stop when I say 'stop,' you won't stop when I say 'no,' you would only stop everything you're doing if I say the safe-word. That means I absolutely want whatever is going on to end. Does that make sense?" he asked.

      "So the presentation wasn't over," I teased.

      He narrowed his eyes at me. "This is important," he insisted.

      I smirked. "Alright, alright. What do you think it should be?" I planted my elbow on my knee and rested my cheek on my fist, looking up at him.

      He tapped his foot, thinking it over with a pensive expression. Then, he lit up, as if overcome with the grace of realization, and he lifted his head to look at me with an amused glint in his eyes. "How about 'Down?'"

      It took a moment for the confusion that had simmered to clear, and when I realized what he was implying, I gaped at him, lifting my head from my hand. "Wha–down? Like–like a dog?" I asked quizzically.

      He shrugged, expression impassive. "If you want to look at it that way, sure," he said casually, letting the pointer hang from his hand as he examined his perfect nails.

      I groaned, dropping my hands between my legs and leaning my head back. "It can't be something like... Red? Or... Lobster?" I shrugged despite the pathetic ideas that first came to mind, and Levi lulled his head to the side with a deadpan expression.

      "Yes, because the word lobster is such a turn on," he paused, "—plus, Red is boring. I prefer when safe-words are interesting and even a little fun, because usually, if they need to be used, it can shift the mood. It can't be anything I'd potentially say during a session, either."

      "Just saying, I doubt you'd say lobster," I mumbled under my breath, but didn’t complain any further.

      He rolled his eyes with an amused smirk. "Alright, that's settled, then. Our safe word is Down. What are you supposed to do if I ever say it?" he asked, testing me.

      "Stop whatever I'm doing immediately, no questions asked," I replied.

      He hummed in confirmation. "Exactly. Do you remember what your assignment is?" he asked.

      I nodded quickly. "Watch the video about choking until I know exactly how to do it," I recited, and he gave me a firm nod of approval.

      "Can I see you in the light now? The projector makes you look scary," I whined. He huffed, shutting his laptop and ending the slide's projection. The room was engulfed in an eerie, evening-hued darkness once more, but that only lasted for a few more seconds as small feet pitter-pattered to the light switch before it was turned on.

      I squinted as light flooded the room, my eyes struggling to adjust. But as soon as I could, I glued my eyes to Levi, who never ceased to look as incredible as he had the last time I'd seen him.

      I waved him over. "You owe me a lot of kisses for forcing me to sit through that presentation without talking. You have no idea how hard that was," I told him, waving him over as I itched to touch him. He shook his head, but didn't rebuke, shuffling over until he could climb onto my lap.

      I moved my hands to his waist as he slid his fingers into my hair. He leaned down, tilting his head with mine and pressing our lips together. We kissed for a few seconds before parting with a short peck. "All of that sounds really fun," I said as I looked up at him.

      "Really? You're not put off by any of it?" he asked. Even though we had gone over my comfort level with each category and I had insisted I was happy with everything, a hint of insecurity still existed in his tone.

      I fiddled with the hem of his shirt, fingers barely caressing his side. "You have no idea how much it turns me on to imagine doing all of that stuff to you," I told him honestly.

      He slid his bottom lip between his teeth. "You know, before we got together, when you pushed me against the wall behind the school, it was almost all I could think about for days," he confessed.

      "Oh, yeah?" I teased. "Good to know you get off on my angst."

      He lazily rolled his eyes, leaning down and resting his head on my shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm absolutely enthralled by your angst," he mumbled against my shirt.

      Enthralled. His use of the word made me realize he hadn’t used any complicated vocabulary during his presentation. My hands stilled on his sides, though my fingers still barely fiddled with the fabric between them. "Do you think... I'm stupid?" I asked, pressing my cheek into his shoulder. He tried to pull away, but I held him there. I didn't want him to see the pitiful look on my face.

      Seeming to realize this, he stilled, relaxing against me without protest. "Of course not, Eren. Why would you ask that?" he asked.

      I shrugged. "I just noticed you didn't use any big or fancy words while explaining everything to me. I know you know English is one of my hardest classes, and you've had to help me with finals," I muttered, squeezing his midsection tighter, as if any less pressure would cause him to slip away during my moment of weakness.

      He ran his hands along my neck and shoulder, sending a gentle shiver down my spine. "I have to be practical enough to note that my vocabulary is above-average. I didn't limit my communication because I felt you wouldn't understand, I wanted the presentation to be as simple and concrete as possible—it was a lot of information to process in one sitting. Get the point across, don't over-water it. That's what makes a good presentation. It had nothing to do with what I thought you were capable of," he explained.

      I sagged against him, relief overcoming me. "Thank you. I just had to ask," I admitted, finally allowing him to pull away.

      "I understand. I'm glad you did," he said, cupping the side of my face.

     We kissed again before he sighed, leaning his head against mine. "That presentation look a lot out of me. I whipped it together in two hours," he mumbled.

      "You should take a nap," I told him, running my fingers over the length of his spine.

      He hummed, the sound raspy and light. "Take one with me?" he asked, moving his head to look up at me beneath long, dark lashes. He felt so small in my arms, like an innocent, malleable doll, despite being so far from one.

      "Really?" I asked. It would be the first time we slept in the same bed together. He nodded, the movement shifting the fabric of my shirt as his eyes searched my expression. "What about your uncle?" I asked. The last thing I wanted was to be dragged out of his bed by the collar of my shirt, especially after the way he greeted me at the door.

       "He doesn't care. He's all bark," he said a little too impassively.

      I raised a doubtful eyebrow. "I don't know about that," I muttered, but Levi slid off of my lap and onto the length of the bed anyway, shuffling to the side closest to the wall.

       He got under the covers before patting the empty space beside him, and for a moment, nothing else existed. There was no version of me in any world that was capable of refusing him, collar of my shirt be dammed.

      I crawled over to where he lay and slid under the covers with him, settling my head onto one of his many lush pillows. Satisfied, he turned around toward the wall so he faced away from me, but shuffled back until our bodies were flush. Instinctively, I slid an arm around his middle, and before I knew it, we were spooning in the middle of his bed, our warmth curling together in the midst of the December chill that crept through his window.

      My throat felt tight upon how he felt under my palms, how the length of my body swallowed his own as I curled against him as a firm sheet of protection.

      And even if it were only for a fleeting moment, nothing else mattered but the way he pressed against my skin.

༄༄࿐

      "You're just as useless as your mother, and look where she is now!" a voice shouted, the sound so loud it was as if it was being carved into the boy's skull.

      "You'd be better off six feet underground with her," it continued, though he couldn't see the source of where it was coming from. Darkness swam around him like a school of inky fish, clouding his sight from anything of recognition.

      An agreeing heart beat painfully, swollen and aching with despairing irony. The sound of a gunshot met a blinding light that tore through the darkness like wicked claws, casting it to a realm unseen.

…

      I sat up with a hand that flew to my chest, feeling like I was going to fly into cardiac arrest at any second from how my heart slammed against my ribcage, trying to burst free.

      I let out an exhausted breath as my body gradually caught up with my brain, realizing it was unscathed as my eyes dragged across my dark bedroom.

      "What the fuck?" I whispered to myself.

༄༄࿐

      The semester had gradually come to an end, and after a hellish week of finals that I barely scraped by to pass, winter break finally began. That hellish dream that always seemed like the same scenario told differently hadn't released me from its relentless grip, but I had shoved it to the back of my mind as more important events approached.

      Levi's birthday was right around the corner, and with it would come our first time together.

      I was anxious off my ass for the day to arrive, but above it all, waves of excitement washed over me at the most random moments.

      I couldn't count how many times I had watched the 'choking tutorial,' sitting on my bed or beanbag and resting my hand on my own throat as I watched the lady perform the safe and correct method. 

       However, a few days into winter break, I had realized something detrimental. I had been so focused on ensuring I had watched the video enough, that I had completely forgotten about Levi's birthday present.

      My rush home after work was exhausting, heating me up enough to the point where I had to take my coat off halfway through, but not as exhausting as the near-begging that ensued to get my mom to drive me to the Cat Café. 

      "Getting someone a pet without their knowledge is irresponsible, Eren. You don't know if or when they'll be ready to handle that kind of addition to their lifestyle," she berated as we drove downtown.

      "Mom, he's basically convinced he's getting her; I'm just beating him to it. I wouldn't do this if we hadn't talked about it multiple times already," I ensured, tired of her constant undermining—I shouldn't have told her what I was doing in the first place, I knew she would only react negatively.

      "If you say so. I just hope that poor thing doesn't need to be returned due to your lapse of judgment," she replied. I groaned, practically leaping out of the car to get away from her before I made it explode with both of us in it.

      It had started to snow since I had left work, the lightest flurry of gentle, white flakes floating to the city ground without direction. It wasn't enough to have to rush into the building, but I was still quick on my feet as I headed inside, a lip worried between my teeth.

      After the barista greeted me, a tall, thin girl with maroon hair and red highlights, I jumped straight to the point without trying to be rude. "Hi. What's the process of adopting a cat here?"

      She blinked for a moment, glancing to the right before straightening up. "Oh! You'll have to apply online for the cat you’re interested in adopting. Our adoption coordinator would get back to you within about twenty-four hours after submitting an application," she informed.

      I nodded, tapping the counter anxiously. "And, uhh, where do I apply?" I asked.

      She gestured to a wall to the right, which was parallel with the length of the bar. "All of our information can be found right over there on that board," she replied with a bitterly forced smile.

      Surprised by how tense she became, I read her mind during the brief moment she looked into my eyes.

      "Can't people fucking read? It's not that hard to just look and see for yourself instead of asking the most obvious fucking questions."

      Yeesh, what the hell is her issue?

      I quickly backed off, eyebrows drawing together as I shuffled my way to the board. "Thanks," I muttered.

      She seemed confused by my sudden shift in demeanor, but nodded simply. "Let me know if you have any more questions," she added before returning to what she had been doing.

      Yeah, whatever you say.

      After scanning the QR code on the board that directed me to the application website, I hightailed it out of the café and back into the car.

      "That was quick. Is the cat gone?" she asked.

      I tried to the ignore the twinge of hope in her voice. "No," I replied in an irked tone. "I just have to apply for adoption online."

      "But he'll be Levi's cat, not yours. Can you even apply for someone else's cat?" she asked as she pulled off the curb once she had the chance to.

      "I guess I'll find out," I said as I scrolled through the available cats on the website, looking for Midnight.

      "You really didn't think this through, did you?" my mom accused, but I ignored her as I clicked on Midnight's picture, opening the application and beginning to read through the first question.

༄༄࿐

      It had been almost a day since I had applied to adopt Midnight. It was easy, for the most part—there were just a few questions and statements I had to slightly fib about the answers for to seem like a more eligible candidate. I mostly answered as if I were Levi, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, considering she would be his cat.

      As I anxiously awaited a response, I decided to continue with my regular studying, opening up the YouTube video I had bookmarked on my laptop and analyzing it for what felt like the hundredth time over.

      The chances of me crushing Levi's windpipe if I constructed his throat too hard with the wrong hand positioning were more than enough to scare me into getting it just right. I familiarized myself with the way it felt, how the column of his throat would sit against my palm, how my fingertips would press into the flesh on either side of his neck.

      When I felt confident I was getting the hang of it and the woman's hand in the video was practically engraved into my retinas, I realized it hadn't been the only kink of his I wasn't familiar with. The times I had had sex in the past were either sloppy and drunk or the most boring, vanilla activity in history, so to say I was inexperienced in the more exciting aspects of sex was an understatement.

      The last thing I wanted was for Christmas day to arrive and for me to be a fumbling oaf that had no idea what I was doing. It would be such a turn-off, and having to be guided every step of the way would be so unattractive and probably make Levi call the whole thing off—he might even break up with me if I'm not good enough. A hypersexual with a partner that was bad as sex was a disaster waiting to happen. 

      Being unable to satisfy him was horrifying, to say the least, so I needed to figure out a way to prepare myself—to ensure I would at least have a general sense of what to do when the night came.

      Unfortunately, that led me to tucking myself, my wireless earbuds, and my laptop in a corner of shame, a new incognito tab being my only company.

      Not wanting to dive head first into the deep-end, I first typed in, 'how to be exciting in bed.' Unfortunately, this led me to a bunch of articles written by middle-aged women with struggling marriages giving advice on how to introduce new, fun sexual activities with your partner. It was all rather mundane, even if bondage was mentioned here and there—nothing gave me any insight into how to be as wild and confident as Levi was expecting me to be.

      I wasn't exactly sure when the rabbit hole started to become deeper, but eventually, I found myself in the narrow, dark tunnel of Pornhub.

      I didn't know if it was obvious or not, but I had never touched porn in my life. If Levi was hypersexual, I had been the opposite before he and I met. I had hardly been attracted to people as it was, there was zero appeal in watching someone get mindlessly fucked with an obvious and painfully forced script.

      But now, things have changed. There was research to be done, and while I had always loathed studying, I had never been more motivated to get an A until now.

      After putting my earbuds in, I tapped on the surface of my laptop beside my trackpad, considering what to look up. There were a bunch of ads and recommended videos of big-chested women getting absolutely eviscerated, but I happily ignored those as I typed in the first thing that came to mind, 'gay bdsm.'

      Thousands of results flooded in, along with a pop-up I quickly had to close out of fear it would give me a virus. Could you even get a virus on Pornhub? I had no idea, but I definitely wasn't risking it.

      The first thing I noticed as I began skimming over various, very cringey titles was how often the word 'twink' was used. I rolled my eyes—people sure knew how to be creative.

      Unsure exactly what to look for, I clicked on a random video that stuck out to me. '6'7" Daddy Fucks Submissive Boy-Toy - BDSM Rope Play - Spanking.'

      Six-seven? That seemed like a stretch. As the video began, I sat back, resting my cheek on my fist. It began with the 'boy-toy' on the bed as the 'six-seven daddy' walked into the room and began talking to him in a deep, almost inaudible tone. The acting so far was pretty terrible, but all I needed to see were the techniques.

      The dominant—which I will admit was quite huge—manhandled the other guy with terrifying strength, tossing him like he weighed nothing. But the submissive seemed to love it, letting out very dramatic sounds of excitement, even though he was probably amplifying his reaction for the camera.

      I sighed as I leaned back against my pillows, waiting for the real excitement to pick up. There was a lot of build-up and dirty talk that I took note of. The submissive was being degraded practically every few seconds—which Levi mentioned he liked. Each action the bigger guy took was fueled with aggression. Acting on impulse was one thing, and I could get violent while off my medication or during IED episodes, but acting like this purposefully seemed easier said than done.

      I didn't want to hurt Levi, but the thing was, he wanted to be hurt, he had verbally expressed that. I had to get past that mental barrier that painted those actions as wrong—as unhinged. This is what Levi's expecting, this is what will ultimately satisfy him. And I'd be dammed if I allowed myself to hold back because others carved the barrier between right and wrong.

      I took a mental note of everything he did to the submissive—the way he talked to him, the way he treated him as he fucked him practically violently as he was tied up, and I imagined myself in that same position with Levi. My cock twitched in my sweatpants, but not because of the video in front of me, but rather the images I conjured of Levi desperate beneath me, crying out in contrast to his usually composed manner. My excitement to see him like that was growing by the minute.

      After the video finished, I clicked to the next one, studying any new information I could. They were all quite routine, yet some were either rougher or less daring than others. I watched how the submissive was prepared, whether the amount was brief or if it was thorough and dragged-on. I'd never done anal before, so I figured it was best I had a visual example of what to do even if I could assume the gist of it.

      I was dedicated to being as ready as I could be, equipped with all of the information needed to make Levi's birthday—and every time after that—as memorable as possible. He wouldn't dare even think of anyone he's been with in the past after being with me. As many pitiful, pathetic guys he's been with—guys who weren't even confident enough to tell the world they'd been with someone as incredible as him—none of them would compare to how I would make him feel. 

      And he wouldn't be my secret, he wouldn't be my experiment. I'd flaunt him on my arm for the world to see for as long as I was capable of breathing.

      I had probably watched about seven videos before I was called down for dinner. I had ended up grabbing a notebook after the third one, flipping to a crinkled, blank page and creating bullet-points of things I thought we're important to remember.

      Before shutting my laptop, I looked down at what I had written so far.

• remember foreplay

• push his face into pillow

• use nails when grabbing

• use my weight to keep him down

• talk in his ear

• doggy style is popular

• spitting ????

• be super aggressive

• spank while fucking

• switch positions a lot

- note: don't ever say "cum guzzler". worst line ever created

      I shrugged, deeming it good enough for now, before closing my notebook and setting it atop my laptop. I left both on my bed as I climbed off, Telekinetically opening my bedroom door.

      I paused in my doorway, looking over my shoulder at my notebook and laptop resting on my sheets. Trusting my gut, I draped my comforter over them from where I stood, removing them from sight. Just in case.

Chapter Text

The Triple Celebration

༄༄࿐

Good morning, Eren.

      This is Donna, the Adoption Coordinator working with Angel Paws Shelter and Crumbs and Whiskers Catfé. I see that you're interested in adopting Midnight. After reviewing your application, I'm happy to bear the news that it has been accepted.

      While adoptions would normally undergo a pending period as we review other applicants, there is currently no one else interested in giving Midnight a home. If you would like to proceed with the adoption process, there are a few more pieces of paperwork for you to fill out virtually. 

      If you are still interested, please view and answer the forms below and get back to me when you can. Thank you.

Sincerely, Donna

      I grinned down at the email on my phone with lidded eyes, my heart floating with excitement. I had just woken up a few minutes ago, so it had taken my mind a while to kick in and process the email, but once I did, I quickly sprung to life.

      Christmas was in a week and a half, which gave me just enough time to prepare for Midnight to finally be in Levi's care.

      Despite my mom's grumbling about being on my phone, I had spent most of the morning during breakfast looking up various cat products and supplies I could shower him and Midnight with.

      Since I was saving up for an apartment once I graduated, my bank account was pretty hefty. The good thing about never having anything to spend my money on—I had a PS5, I bought the few games I wanted every now and then, no driver's license, and I wasn't into fashion—was that I could afford to splurge like this every once in a while.

      Midnight's adoption fee was one-hundred dollars, so between that, what she needed to live comfortably, and the extra commodities I wanted to spoil her and Levi with, I was looking at spending around three-hundred in total.

      It didn't put much of a dent in what I had saved considering I've been working since I was sixteen, so I didn't bat an eye when I began checking out my cart. 

      "How much are you spending on this whole thing? You guys have only been together for a little while," my mom commented after she took a pursed sip of her green tea. Her other hand fiddled with the festive garland that ran through the center of the island.

      "Levi isn't a gold-digger, mom. He doesn't even know I'm doing this for him," I said as the confirmation of my order appeared on my phone screen.

      "I ordered everything for pickup, so we need to stop at the pet store sometime this week to get all of it," I added. She sighed, shaking her head, but chose not to respond as she took another sip. I figured that was her own begrudging form of agreement, and set my phone down before scarfing down my now room-temperature omelette.

      When we were finished eating, my dad stood from the island to get ready to go into the clinic. The only days he got off for the holidays were Christmas Eve, Christmas day, and New Year's day, but I suppose that was more than some doctors got. When he gave my mom a kiss on the cheek, then turned and left the room, I stood up to meet my mom by the kitchen sink.

      "Hey, can Levi and Kenny come over for Christmas?" I asked in a hushed tone once I was sure we were left alone.

      My mom scoffed. "Eren, if you put me in this position again, I swear—your dad hardly let Thanksgiving go," she muttered stiffly.

      She was right, Dad had been in a mood for a while after Kenny had come over for Thanksgiving and helped her cook. But it wasn't my fault she had conveniently forgotten to tell him about it.

      "But it's Levi's birthday. And he can't come here alone, he won't leave Kenny by himself on the holidays," I tried. 

      She quickly shook her head. "Nope. I'm not budging this time, Eren. You can see Levi before and after your grandparents are here. They're flying all the way from Germany—the least you could do is spend some time with them," she said, her tone unwavering.

      I grumbled under my breath, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned back against the counter. Oma and Opa were flying in for Christmas this year. It would just be the two of them, no other family would be visiting—thank god, after the Thanksgiving fiasco.

      The issue was, if anyone were detached and oblivious to our particular familial situation the most, it was my dad's parents.

      They visited once every other year, if that. All they knew was that their son had moved to America for school, became a successful doctor, and built a family for himself. That was all they needed to claim a job well-done for themselves. They were bothered by me being an only child, but rarely thought to push. I had to put on a hefty mask around them, more-so than any of my other family members, despite the fact that they were practically strangers to me. Their traditional values outranked anyone else's by far.

      "When will they be here?" I asked, leaning my head back and combing an irked hand through my hair.

      "Christmas Eve, around noon," she replied.

      I groaned. "Seriously?" My plans to spend the entirety of those two days with Levi were quickly being dragged through the door. 

      "Yes, seriously. And I expect you to be at least somewhat present. They're not getting any younger, you know," she proclaimed, shutting off the sink and drying her hands with a towel.

      "I'm well aware," I muttered under my breath.

      She shot a nasty glare at my chest. "None of that while they're here, either. Oma and Opa may not speak English as well as we can, but they're not brainless," she snapped.

      I sighed, pushing myself off of the counter and sauntering out of the kitchen. I would never hear the end of it if I didn't spend time with my grandparents while they were here, and as little as I cared about their visit, I wasn't too keen on getting pestered for the rest of winter break.

༄༄࿐

      Christmas was in five days. Between my grandparents visiting, having to keep Midnight a secret, and my first time with Levi, I was anxious off my fucking ass. Not to mention I had barely gotten any sleep, that stupid fucking dream constantly waking me up in a cold-sweat. I still had no idea what it meant, and it was really starting to piss me off.

      At least Levi and I had figured out our Christmas plans. He would come over late on Christmas Eve and stay the night, going home to spend part of Christmas with Kenny the next day.

      The adoption coordinator, Donna, was becoming impatient after I told her I couldn't pick Midnight up right away. Her emails were becoming short and borderline passive-aggressive, and I was worried that if I waited any longer my adoption would be refunded. So, after days of putting it off and making excuse after excuse, I gave in and took Midnight home the next day.

     "She is not to leave your room at any point, Eren, do you understand? I don't keep this house as clean as it is only for some cat you bring home to ruin it," my mom snapped by the doorway as I filled Midnight's litter box with a bag I had bought solely for Levi.

      "Yes, yes, I know, mom," I bit back, brows drawn together as Midnight's airy meows sounded from the carrier behind me.

      "Why don't you just give her to Levi early and save yourself the hassle—and the smell?" she crinkled her nose as litter dust floated through the air, stepping back. I Telekinetically set the bag down beside the box and stood up straight with a sigh. Lifting heavier things had become almost trivial ever since I had moved the car at the junkyard—which I had yet to tell my parents about.

      "Because, I have it all planned out. Her name is Midnight, and Levi's birthday is on Christmas day, right? So, I'm going to ask Levi to come over Christmas Eve night and stall while we watch his favorite movie. When it's midnight—like, the time—I'm going to bring him upstairs to my room and surprise him with Midnight the cat. See?" I crossed my arms over my puffed chest as if it were the greatest idea ever conceived by mankind—because it was.

      My mom narrowed her hazel eyes with pursed lips, mulling it over. "Well, you better not make too much noise. Keep the movie low. Your grandparents will be in and most likely sleeping."

      I took her response for the minimal amount of approval that it was, and gestured to the carrier Midnight was in. "Heard. I'm gonna let her out now. You might want to leave before she kills you—you know, the murderous creature that she is," I said in a dry, sarcastic tone.

      She rolled her eyes but turned her shoulder to me. She eyed the carrier once before leaving my room, shutting the door behind her. Midnight continued to let out tiny, airy meows in protest against being confined. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." I walked over to her carrier on my bed, unlocking the cage and letting her walk out on her own.

      Her tiny paws carried her onto my comforter, where she wobbled slightly before leaning down and sniffing the fabric. I crouched on the floor, watching her through tired eyes.

      "You're my ticket to Levi falling in love with me, 'kay?" I mumbled to her, lifting my hand and gently caressing her fragile spine with the back of my knuckles. She had grown a bit since Levi and I first met her, but her midsection was still nearly the size of my entire hand. 

      "Damn, I could snap you in half without even trying," I muttered, shaking my head with a sigh as I stood up.

      As soon as I did, my phone began buzzing beside the carrier. It scared the shit out of Midnight, who ran back inside of it with a puffy tail.

      I grabbed my phone, looking down to see an incoming FaceTime call from Levi. "Shit," I muttered. Midnight's meows were quiet, but I still couldn't risk Levi hearing her. Leaving her alone in my bedroom, I entered the hallway and shut the door behind me.

      I answered the call, smiling down at my phone. But it quickly dwindled, a worried frown etching between my brows at the sight of Levi's reddened, puffy eyes. "Were you crying?" I asked, bewildered by the possibility. In the almost two months Levi and I have been together, he hasn't once even come close to crying.

      "My uncle has been giving me shit for days about adopting Midnight for my birthday—he said we aren't ready for another pet yet and he doesn't know how TenSoon will handle it. I've been basically on my fucking knees trying to change his mind, and I thought I was getting close, but I just went to the café to visit her and she was fucking gone, Eren. Someone fucking took her from me." His voice borderline cracked as he spoke, shifting in his bed as he pulled his comforter tighter over his body.

      My heart sank, a queasy feeling quickly taking root in my gut. "Oh—shit, I'm so sorry, Levi," I forced myself to say, a tight squeeze involuntarily taking ahold of my chest. "Um, are you okay?"

      "No, I'm not fucking okay," he snapped. "She was my cat, Eren." I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. Shit—shit. What the hell am I supposed to say?

      "I know. I'm sorry, Levi. Hey, it's gonna work out," I spewed without thinking. I was this close to just saying fuck it and showing Midnight to him, but first of all, I didn't want to ruin the amazing surprise that I had planned, and second of all, he sounded way too pissed right now to handle finding out I adopted her in secret—even if it was for his sake.

      "How the hell is it going to work out, Eren? She's gone; I'm never gonna have her," he mourned. I had to pull the phone away as I anxiously clawed at my hair. This was the last thing I needed. Why did he have to be so dedicated to keeping tabs on her?

      "Can you just—come over please? I need you," he said, a pleading air to his tone. My entire body tensed. Fuck. I turned to my closed door, hearing the faintest cries of Midnight's meows that weren't loud enough to carry through the phone. I just brought her home, I couldn't leave her alone in some new, strange place with a locked door. But how on earth was I supposed to ignore Levi basically begging to be with me right now—expressing for the first time that he needed me?

      "Uh—um," I stuttered, shifting on my feet and bringing my free hand to the back of my neck. 

      "What? Are you busy?" he croaked, sounding so utterly dejected it physically hurt to hear. I've never heard him like this before.

      "No—I, just, give me a bit. I'll try to be over as soon as I can," I said. Well, I've dug my hole now, I'll just have to think of something on the spot.

      "Okay," he mumbled, tilting his head into his cocoon. Fuck. I don't care if he hates to hear it, he's so fucking cute.  

      We hung up shortly after, and I leaned against the wall with a hand to my forehead. "Ugh," I groaned, sliding my palm down my face. I didn't pity myself for too long, huffing a breath and desperately trying to conjure a plan.

      There was no way in hell my mom would be an option—she hated cats, and most animals, for that matter, and would only berate me for being irresponsible and not thinking this through.

      A sudden thought came to mind, and I gnawed at my fingernails upon the possibility.

      I mean, it wouldn't hurt, would it?

      Acting before I could psych myself out of it, I tracked down the hallway until I reached the door to my dad's office. I knocked my fist against the wood, stepping back and anxiously waiting for any form of response. I never interrupted my dad while he was working, but this was practically a life-or-death situation.

      The door was pulled open seconds later, a few inches of space allowing line of sight to my dad's perplexed expression. It grew even more confused when he realized it was me standing in front of his office, trailing his low gaze over my chest.

      "Dad, you know for a fact I like, never ask you for anything, right?" I began before he could open his mouth.

      He furrowed his brows, blinking once before his expression softened and he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I mean, I suppose that's true. I'm in the middle of something, Eren—"

      "Okay, glad we can both agree. So, with that being said, one would think I have a few favors stacked up, right?" I continued, cutting him off.

      He sighed, lifting a hand to rub his forehead. It was obvious he was exhausted, but there were more important matters at hand. "What's going on?" he asked.

      I shoved my hands in my pockets, realizing there was nothing else I could do but rip the band-aid off. "Midnight's in my room, but I need to go over to Levi's for a while. She just came home so I don't want to leave her alone—I don't know what she'll do and I don't want her to destroy anything or shit on my bed. Could you please watch her for a bit?" Upon his immediate sigh, I continued. "Come on, all you need to do is just pop in every now and then to check on her. You don't even need to stay in my room. You know how mom is with cats—there's no way she'll help. I just need you to do this one thing for me," I practically begged.

      Succumbing to pleading with my father for a favor was never a place I thought I'd find myself in, but it seemed like new and unexpected possibilities had been never-ending since meeting Levi.

      He seemed as if he was trapped between a rock and a hard place, expression pinched as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. His fingers lingered there before spreading over his cheeks, trailing down to his jaw where he stroked a faint stubble.

      "Eren, I have a lot of work to do," he finally exasperated. 

      I groaned. "So you can't pause it and do this one thing for me? Just for a little while?" I persisted. I knew I had cornered him—it was true, I never asked him for anything. I barely came to him for favors, let alone begged him for something. If he turned me down now, he would officially be marked as the most selfish father in the entire world.

      After a moment of dreadful silence, he let out a reluctant sigh. "Fine," he conceded. "But don't be gone for too long. This is your responsibility," he added.

      Heart filled with relief, I quickly nodded my head. "I won't. Thank you, dad," I said, not wasting a moment longer before I rushed to my room to grab my stuff.

      This was fine. This was perfectly fine. Great, even. I could be there for Levi, I still had my surprise, he was going to be over the moon that I got Midnight for him, and he was going to be glad I didn't ruin it by telling him. Everything was still in place.

      After throwing a jacket on, grabbing my phone, wallet, and shoes, I rushed downstairs. My mom jerked her head toward me from the living room, where she was dusting beneath a string of Christmas lights along the mantle, and threw a hand over her hip. "Where are you going? You're not leaving that cat alone.”

      Relieved I didn't have to stop in my tracks, I continued to the front door. "Levi's. Dad's watching her," I rushed to say, pulling the front door open and leaving her stunned to silence.

      My jog to Levi's was enough to ward off the biting chill, and when I arrived at his front doorstep with my breath curling through the air in front of me, Kenny was on the other side again.

      Only this time, after looking down at me once, he merely sighed before turning and walking off. I guess he figured he didn't have much to say since he was now the bad guy.

      I kicked off my snow-caked shoes in the entryway after shutting the door behind me, hurrying down the hall to Levi's room. I knocked once before opening the door, peaking my head inside. Levi was still wrapped up in his comforter, the pathetic light from the cloudy day the only thing illuminating his dark bedroom.

      "Well, this is just depressing," I teased, shutting the door behind me and pulling off my coat to throw over his chair. He lifted his head to look at me, and I could still see the saddened sheen behind his silver eyes.

      I walked to his bed and sat down on the edge of it, looking down at him as my hair fell around my eyes. Trepidation still lingered in my chest as he looked up at me, looking small and utterly vulnerable in his sheets.

      "This'll be the worst birthday ever," he mumbled. I wouldn't have been able to hear him if I wasn't this close. I smirked, throwing myself over the bed and propping my head up with my hand as I faced him. 

      "That can't be true. It's going to be your first birthday with the best boyfriend in the entire world, after all," I gloated. I was only mostly joking.

      He glared at me from his cocoon, and I winced. "Is this not a good time to mess around?" I asked, and he sighed, expression relaxing as he shifted closer to me. 

      "Actually, you have a surprisingly keen sense of how to be stupid at just the right time," he muttered.

      "Um, thanks?" Something told me that wasn't exactly a compliment, but I'd take what I could get from him—especially now. He slowly sat up in his bundle of blankets, leaning back against the wall with a dejected expression.

      "Are you just going to lay there? Or are you going to make use of that oversized body of yours?" he asked. I raised my eyebrows suggestively, and he scoffed. "I meant cuddle me, idiot."

      I grinned nervously before sitting up and backing up against the wall, opening my arms up for him, he shuffled in his burrito until he could slump between my legs in a big pile. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him against me and settling the lump that he was safely against my chest.

      "These are the perks of having a tree as a boyfriend," he mumbled, pressing his head against my collarbone.

      "And these are the perks of having a walnut as a boyfriend," I teased, resting my chin on his head.

      "You're lucky I'm wrapped up right now or I'd suffocate you," he grumbled. I chuckled, pulling him closer and letting his warmth engulf me.

      "That's what you want," I said in a teasing tone, and he glared up at me.

      "Don't push your luck," he muttered, cuddling up into me.

      I'm not claiming him being sad is a good thing, but I'm just saying, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to let him think Midnight was gone. Otherwise, I wouldn't be experiencing how it felt to have him really need me right now.

      "I just can't believe my uncle was being this stubborn. TenSoon wouldn't hurt a fly, and what is a tiny kitten going to do?" he continued. I tried to hide my disbelief that his dog wouldn't hurt a fly, considering he sent me flying to the ground the first time I came over, but I wasn't going to argue with him now.

      "Yeah, it's really stupid," I settled on. He shifted slightly in my hold and sighed.

      "He feels really bad and has been trying to make it up to me all day. But nothing he does is going to change the fact that he made me miss out on the only cat I've ever wanted as much as I wanted her," he said. I hummed, choosing to stay silent, as there wasn't anything I could say to make this situation any better.

      "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?" I couldn't see his expression as he asked the question, but I did my best to prevent the panic that threatened to freeze my body. As perceptive as he was, there was no doubt he would feel it even through the layers of his comforter.

    "No. What do you mean?" I forced myself to ask, playing it off as best I could.

      He sighed again. "Nothing. I just figured there might have still been a chance to have her if you were hiding something," he said, defeated.

      ‘A new relationship built off of a lie does not seem like a very stable foundation.’

      My eyebrows drew together. Why the hell was I thinking about that now? This was completely different.

      "I'm sorry, I wish I would have thought of that sooner," I said, anxiously fiddling with his comforter beneath my hands. Was it really wrong to lie if it was for his benefit?

      "It's okay, there's nothing we can do about it now. Even if she hadn't been adopted today, it was inevitable that it would happen eventually—I doubt my uncle was going to budge any time soon. I just want to get my mind off of the entire thing," he said dejectedly.

      "Well, what else do you want for your birthday?" I asked, slightly turning him in my arms.

      He looked up at me with a scoff. "You mean you haven't gotten anything for me, yet? Some best boyfriend in the entire world you are." His quirked eyebrow was accompanied by a concerned curl of his lips. 

      I smirked. "Of course I got you something, Christmas is in four days. I'm not as brainless as I seem. But if you were to have the ideal present, what would it be?" I asked. Even though I had gotten him the best present I could have, it would be nice to file away future gift ideas.

      He eyed me suspiciously before settling back. "Hmm. I don't know, I've never really thought about it; my uncle usually let me take his card to whatever store to get what I wanted. Real personal, you know?" he said sarcastically. I huffed a laugh through my nose. Kenny didn't really seem like the type for sentimental gifts, so that didn't surprise me.

      "You don't like being in control of what you get?" I asked, mindlessly drawing circles with my finger on his thigh.

      He shrugged. "I think it's an unchallenging way out. I'd rather receive a gift I might not adore but had heart and intent behind it," he replied.

      I nodded my head. "Yeah, that's a good way to look at it." After my response, he realized he had had enough time wrapped up in his blanket burrito, and sat up to gradually unwrap himself. He let out a breath once he was free, and settled against the wall beside me with his legs crossed over mine. Despite the fact that we'd slept in the same bed together, it was a strangely domestic position that made my heart skip an unnatural beat.

      "Does your family go to church on Christmas?" he asked, changing the subject.

      I leaned my head back. "Not anymore. I don't think we've been to church since I was like... nine? We used to go with my mom's parents back when my family made an effort to stay close," I said.

      He toed at my feet. "Are you religious?" he asked next. I almost burst out laughing at the absurdity of the question, but he seemed serious, so I desperately tried to remain composed.

      "God, no. Not at all," I replied. He looked up at me with a raised eyebrow and slowly nodded.

      "I can't say I'm surprised. But what about your parents?" He tucked the comforter over his lap, settling his hands over it.

      I shrugged, shimmying my hand in the air. "Eh, I mean, my mom was raised Lutheran, I think. Going to church for a while was part of the effort to maintain that 'perfect suburban family' act, but that didn't last long. My dad is the 'we all evolved from monkeys and fish' type, so, not much to go off of there," I explained.

      He hummed, tilting his head. "What do you believe?" 

      I glanced at him before trailing my eyes to the ceiling, furrowing my brows between them. "Honestly, I don't know. We're all just kind of... here, I guess. Whether we evolved or were created, it doesn't make shit any better. We all die eventually," I said. It may have sounded cynical, but I didn't bother considering anything more promising about the afterlife. My entire world had been turned upside down after my powers had surfaced. My biggest concern was navigating the freakish circumstance in my physical life, not what came afterward—something told me that's where my mom had settled, as well.

      "I can understand that," he replied, looking down at the comforter with a gentle yet contemplative gaze.

      I gestured my hand to him. "Well, what do you believe?" I asked. There was no way he didn't have his own input when he had been the one to initiate such a profound conversation.

      He slid his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling the pink skin for a moment before allowing it to relax. "Part of me thinks there might be something out there—watching us; looking over us. God, angels, cosmic power of the universe, whatever the fuck. I feel believing we aren't completely alone initiates a sense of meaning behind life, don't you think?" He looked up at me with hooded, silver eyes, gaging my reaction.

      I blinked, an eyebrow raised with initial surprise before I shrugged, leaning back and folding my hands behind my head. "I guess," I muttered, sinking into the pillows behind me. He stroked my leg with his thumb before opening his mouth.

      "When no longer do a butterfly's wings flutter,

      Its colors seep one with earth.

      When our bones turn brittle as a weeping flower,

      The ground is our given berth.”

      Taking a moment to think about what he'd recited, I perked up. "We're all connected?" I assumed.

      A slight smile lifted his the corners of his lips as he nodded. "Mhm. I like to think that means something," he said softly.

      "Soft little poet," I said with a grin, and he scrunched his nose up at me.

༄༄࿐

      Christmas Eve had finally arrived. Dad was moments from arriving back home with Oma and Opa after picking them up from the airport. Mom had insisted I went with him while she cooked a German lunch, but had finally backed off after I reminded her how much I had to get done in preparation for Levi's birthday.

      "Well whose fault is that?" she had said in a condescending tone, one that I brushed off with a roll of my eyes. I had to milk every final minute I could get in my room before isolation was ripped away from me by my grandparents.

      I had taken an entire day to deep clean my room, something I hadn't done since the last time I was forced to by my mom. That would have been before I turned eighteen, if that puts it into perspective.

      I had collected every piece of strewn clothing and threw them into the hamper, vacuumed, washed my bedding, even dusted the desk and shelves, and wiped down the entire bathroom. I was fucking exhausted by the time I was done.

      It was odd living in such a clean environment, and half of the time I didn't really know what I was doing, but I clearly remembered Levi's words the first time he had been in my room. "I would rather die than sleep in here if it looked like this."

      Now, he did follow up by saying something like "it looks lived in, which shows its yours," but I didn't really want to be known as the boyfriend with the subpar bedroom that didn't meet his standards. The last thing I needed after how much I'd prepared for tonight was for him to refuse to have sex in here.

      Midnight was still as tiny as ever—despite the fact that I always kept her food bowl filled—and it only solidified the cuteness factor of Levi's present, something I was quite confident in. I had even tied a little red bow around her neck to make her look like a present. It looked a little sad, as I wasn't the best at tying them, but it did the trick.

      I had done my best to condense the various cat toys and small supplies within a Christmas themed basket in a way that looked presentable, but admittedly, I didn't have an eye for presentation. I didn't bother wrapping them because it felt redundant, but what I did wrap was Midnight's new collar, tucked away in a small box. It was black, adorned by a velvet bow, and had a small silver bell attached to it. I was planning on giving it to him on the couch as a hint before bringing him upstairs.

      One thing I had learned over the last few days Midnight had been stashed away in my room was that litter isn't fun to clean. I had done my best to clean most of it when I was forced to by standing a good ten feet from the box and Telekinetically using the scoop to do the dirty work. It wasn't the neatest job, and litter definitely ended up on the floor more than once before I had deep cleaned, but it was better than breathing in dust and fumes.

      I hope Levi had been prepared to take on the less pleasant duties—hah, duties—that I hadn't been ready for.

      After trying to shove the last bag of treats between a fishing-rod toy with an octopus attached and a cat-nip filled carrot, I heard the front door close downstairs and embellished voices carry up into the hallway.

      I sighed, standing up and bracing myself as I combed a hand through my hair. If anyone knew how to welcome you in the loudest and most invasive way possible, it was Oma.

      I shut my bedroom door behind me, taking a deep breath and treading down the hall. I had tracked about half of the staircase before a bellowing "ERE—" was cut short by an "oh, there you are," from my mom in the living room.

      Heads turned to me as my dad carried their suitcases into the guest bedroom, and a loud gasp was pulled through my grandma's wide, open-mouthed grin. "Ohhh, Bärchen!!! Ich habe meinen Schnucki verpasst, how lovely," (Ohh, Little Bear!! I've missed my sweetie-pie, how lovely,) she loudly cooed, frail arms quickly stretching out as she hurried to me.

      Pretending to know what most of that meant—she had called me Bärchen since I was born—I forced a small smile to my lips and met her halfway, wrapping one arm around her back as she practically crushed me with her ancient muscles.

      "Hello, Oma," I greeted, hoping she couldn't hear the discomfort in my tone. It was obvious she didn't, as she continued to hold me and sway me side-to-side while muttering high-pitched, excited words of endearment in German.

      It was difficult to read their minds as I did everyone else's, because their thoughts were a mix of German and broken English. I could barely string together what they were thinking most of the time as I only had fleeting images to follow, so I normally opted to not even bother.

      When she finally pulled away, smiling up at me, I turned to my grandpa. He grinned, shuffling toward me with an elated chuckle and giving me a half-hug with a large spotted hand, his other clutching his cane. "Mein Enkel, so big," (My grandson, so big,) he said in acknowledgment.

      Oma reached up and patted my cheek. "Tall like Grisha, but look just like your Mutter," (mother,) she said sweetly, enunciating every word to fight through her thick German accent. She had probably said that about fifteen times over the last decade, but I guess it was still absolutely crucial that I knew. 

      "Yes, everyone says that," my mom said with a small chuckle. I wasn't sure if it was discomfort or pride she felt, it was difficult to tell with her stiff posture. She had a good relationship with dad's parents, but mostly because they barely came around and she could put on whatever facade she wanted through phone calls. Plus, she had given them a grandchild and was pretty much the epitome of what they believed a 'traditional mother' should be, so they could hardly complain.

      After a few more words of excitement, Mom encouraged us to go to the dining room where brunch was prepared, dad following behind Oma and Opa.

      "I made Currywurst, your favorite," she announced as we headed for our seats, my grandparents gaping at the food. "Ahh, ausgezeichnet!! So sweet," (Ahh, excellent!! So sweet,) Oma said.

      "Always best hostess," Opa complimented with a grin, slowly sitting down and resting his cane on the edge of the chair. My mom waved a flattered hand as she sat to the left of my dad, who was at the head of the table, Oma next to her and Opa next to me.

     Lunch began with basic small talk, my parents catching them up on what had been going on in our lives lately—leaving out certain details to paint a better picture, most noticeably, my relationship with Levi.

      When Aunt Mary and my mom's parents had come over with the kids, nothing was established yet. I hadn't announced Levi and I being together because the circumstances made it difficult, and I wasn't ready to face my parents' reactions in front of that many intense family members.

      However, now that they knew, now that I was more confident in our relationship than I had ever been, I didn't intend on keeping it a secret—especially if Levi was going to come over tonight and meet them. Something told me that wasn't the case for my parents.

      "You're almost twenty, you can date whoever you want." I was beginning to wonder just how deeply that statement ran for them. They were more concerned by the fact that I was becoming that close with someone—not the fact that he was a guy. However, now that they were in the face of my dad's parents—traditionally-rooted elders from Germany, that particular morsel of information may have become a crucial factor.

      Dad caught them up on what was going on at the clinic—particularly leaving out the recent issue with the mysterious patient, though I wasn't surprised. They listened intently, desperately trying to understand his doctoral lingo, and dad would repeat a word in German if they looked particularly confused. He wasn't the best speaker anymore as he had pretty much dropped the language after moving to America, but he could get the bare-minimum across.

       I picked at my food as they spoke, content with remaining silent as they talked amongst themselves. However, as soon as dad and Opa had wrapped up their business-centric conversation, all of their attention was glued to me—their precious grandson.

      "So, Eren, school going well?" Oma asked with an open-mouthed smile.

      "Yeah," I said with a nod. "School is going surprisingly good, but I'm excited to graduate."

      She made an elated sound in the back of her throat. "Ohh yes, last year! College plans?" She shoved another bite into her mouth before urging me to answer.

      "Uhh no, not right now," I said. She appeared momentarily dejected as she swallowed, and Mom quickly spoke up beside her.

      "He was planning to go to school for law investigation with his friends," she stated, as if I had simply forgotten to slip that little piece of information in. 

      I shot her a not-so-subtle glare. "But I'm not anymore," I said flatly. She knew that was the case a long time ago; I had no idea why she was trying to use it now as some weird attempt at saving face.

      Oma waved a hand. "Ah, well, that's okay. Plenty of opportunities for future, ja?" She smiled encouragingly, and I gave her a short nod in begrudging agreement.

      "What about social life? Good group of friends? Nice girlfriend?" she changed the topic, gesturing to me excitedly.

       "Ah, yes! As a Jaeger, you must have many girls!" Opa added with a proud chuckle, patting me on the shoulder and painfully reminding me of my other grandparents, always insisting I needed a girlfriend to be happy.

      However, this time would be different. It was as if the same instance was replaying again, and I was given the chance to redeem myself. So, I cleared my throat, leaning over my plate. "I have a boyfriend," I stated simply, forking a sausage into my mouth.

      The entire table went dead silent, as if my words had caused the world to halt. Silverware stopped caressing porcelain, and Oma stared at me with wide, hazel eyes from across the table.

      Mom lifted her hands and rubbed both of her cheeks before placing one on her tensed forehead, glowering at my chin. Dad rubbed the back of his neck as Opa looked over at his wife. 

      "Oh, ah, I see..." Oma trailed off, nodding once, yet keeping her curled hands on either side of her plate.

      Opa coughed awkwardly beside me, and I raised an eyebrow as I swallowed, digesting their painfully obvious disapproval. "Is there a problem?" I asked casually, returning to my food.

      My grandma shifted, sitting up straighter. "Ah, no, Bärchen, just—surprised! Right, Ehemann?" (Right, husband?)

      Coughing again, this time slightly louder as he seemed to choke on a piece of food, grandpa nodded. "Yes... surprised," he agreed, although he didn't sound very convincing.

      I shrugged, continuing to eat as my mom glanced at Oma in her peripheral. I tried to ignore the shame painted over her features, desperately hoping it wasn't due to me, but due to her own lapse of judgment by trying to keep my relationship hidden from them. Though I knew my mom had been ashamed of me for more reasons than that, so I wouldn't have been surprised if it was the former.

      I made eye-contact with Oma, and though knowing it wouldn't be exactly what I hoped, I attempted to read her mind.

      There were feelings of shame, reluctance, and fear.

      "Oh, Bärchen. Das ist traurig. Family will be broken now." (Oh, Little Bear. This is saddening. Family will be broken now.)

      There was faint imagery of our lineage dying off, and I had to prevent myself from rolling my eyes. My parents clearly didn't seem to care about the ‘bloodline’ ending, considering they would rather I die alone, gay or not.

       The rest of lunch was mostly quiet, my mom attempting to liven up conversation by telling stories about the city and encouraging them things were going well for us. It did uplift their moods, but a somber veil had existed over the table ever since the news I had given. By the time it was over, dad took Opa to the living room, and Oma stayed behind with mom to help her clean up. I was about to make an attempt at sneaking up to my room without anyone noticing, drained of enough energy to last a lifetime, but when I rounded the doorway just out of sight, soft voices began to sound from behind me.

      Presuming I was gone, Oma and Mom began to quietly converse. Focusing on what I could hear, I stood rigidly still, head tilted toward the light and shoulder against the wall. 

      "Liebling, (darling,) he likes boys? And you knew this?" Oma began, her voice slightly somber.

      "Yes, I did. He told us a few weeks ago, after Thanksgiving," mom responded curtly. Though, she didn't sound upset, rather—impatient? But that couldn't be right, Oma's impression was worth everything to her.

      "Oh, dear... What shall happen to family? He is your only child, Carla—only son," Oma asked frantically. "After Faye died when Grisha was young, I..." she trailed off, almost choking on her words.

   A sigh came from Mom—I could imagine she was rubbing Oma's shoulder in consolation, though I couldn't be sure. "I know, Lina, I know."

      I pursed my lips at the mention of Aunt Faye, who I had never met, as she died in an accident before dad moved to America. He never liked to talk about her.

      "Can you still have children? Not too late," Oma continued, sounding more sure of herself.

      A moment of tense silence passed. I could only imagine what my mom was thinking. "It would be incredibly hard," she whispered. I felt something odd swim in my chest. Mom never wanted more than one kid, but would they have another if they could? Was there a chance they would turn out like me?

      Oma made a sad sound. "I see..." she trailed off into a pause. "Ah, Carla... you look unwell. Are you eating enough?" I wasn't sure if she had just randomly changed the subject or if it was related somehow. Unwell? I know she's been under a lot of stress, and looked a little haggard from time-to-time, but unwell was pushing it. 

      "Oh, yes, I'm fine, Lina. Just the stress of the holidays—you know," she said a little more confidently, brushing off grandma's worry.

      Oma hummed. "Well please, Liebling, rest, we must all take time to," she encouraged, and the sound of silverware clinking together broke the tension.

      "Thank you, Lina," Mom said, and I took that as my cue to leave as their footsteps began growing distant toward the kitchen.

༄༄࿐

      Levi arrived later that evening, shortly after I had checked on Midnight once dinner wrapped up. I had insisted he come earlier and eat with us, but he told me his uncle had gone all out on a Christmas-Eve dinner for the two of them—still trying to make up for the loss of Midnight. He showed up at our doorstep with his backpack on his shoulders, a small present, and a glass dish of some French-inspired food, handing it to my mom while saying it was from Kenny.

      "Oh! How kind," she mumbled, smiling down at it before awkwardly taking it to the kitchen. Levi rolled his eyes at me once she turned, most likely at the absurdity of his uncle, before handing me the gift he had.

      "And is this for me?" I asked with a grin.

      He let out a scoff. "No, it's for your dad. Of course it's for you," he said plainly.

       Once he removed his shoes, slung off his backpack, and hung his jacket, I pulled him to a hug. "Thank you. Happy almost-birthday," I said, kissing his forehead. "I missed you."

      I kept my hands on his waist as he pulled away and he smirked up at me. "I just saw you yesterday," he said smugly, smoothing out my sweater.

      "And I'm not allowed to miss you every day?" I asked with a dramatic pout, squeezing his waist.

      I heard Oma's voice carry from the living room, asking about who had arrived, and I quickly leaned down to Levi's ear as he looked toward the noise. "My dad's parents know about us, I told them at dinner. Fair warning, they're not the happiest, but I got your back," I whispered. He looked up at me with an unreadable look in his eyes, but the edge of his lips quirked up slightly before settling.

      "Okay," he said quietly, nudging the tips of his fingers under the sleeve of my sweater and gently stroking the skin on my wrist.

      The delicate feeling trailed goosebumps up my arm, and I eyed his sterling eyes with a sudden veil of need. Just the sight of him again, so close to midnight—so close to his birthday, was enough to rile me up. I leaned down again, kissing the side of his face, my breath fanning over his ear, and he tensed. "Eren," he muttered in a warning tone.

      I hummed, breathing in his delectable scent of cinammon and vanilla. "I can't wait to fuck you," I whispered against my better judgment.

      He sucked in a sharp breath, the air between us growing hotter. "Jesus, you can't say shit like that right now," he chastised in a breathy voice, hands pressed firmly against my chest.

      I pulled back and looked down at him with a grin. "I couldn't help myself," I admitted, but the look on his face couldn't  make me regret a single word.

      Levi grumbled, adjusting his thankfully long sweater over his front—which pulled a chuckle from me—before I laced our hands together. With his backpack in his hand, I led us down the hall, and he braced himself with a sigh. It wasn't often he came over to my house, it was usually the other way around. He hadn't experienced much of my family's reaction to our relationship first-hand ever since I told my parents about us.

      We turned the corner and entered the living room, where my dad was sitting in his recliner, and my grandparents were lounging on the couch with their heads turned toward us. They glanced down at our hands for a moment, and Opa's eyebrows slightly twitched before settling.

      I guided him around to the other side of the L-shaped couch, gesturing him to sit before I continued on to our giant Christmas tree. There were already a few more presents beneath it than there had been before Oma and Opa's arrival, and I tucked Levi's beside them before returning to settle down next to him. He glanced at me, and I gave him a reassuring squeeze of my hand before turning to my grandparents.

      "This is him?" Oma asked, nodding toward Levi.

      "Yeah. This is my boyfriend, Levi." I replied, because just 'him' felt like a petty escape from the truth.

      Oma and Opa turned to each other for a moment before beginning to quietly converse in German. "Er sieht aus wie ein Mädchen," (He looks like a girl,) Oma said first, before Opa agreed to whatever she had said with a faint hum. I heard my dad sigh from his recliner, and I squeezed Levi's hand again as he tensed beside me. While he and I didn't understand what was said, if my father could piece it together and it conjured that kind of reaction, it probably wasn't the most positive comment.

      It didn't matter—their opinion meant nothing when it came to my relationship with Levi, and I was hoping he felt the same. I smiled down at him, and he just barely returned it, but the fact that he smiled at all was reassuring enough. He wasn't totally swimming in doubt, at least.

      "Who wants desert? I have a freshly baked apple pie ready to eat." My mom broke the tension by entering the room, hands clad in thick oven mitts.

      "Oh, yes, please!" Oma said in delight. Opa agreed enthusiastically.

      "Do you like apple pie?" I asked Levi, and he nodded. "We'll take some," I said. Not even having to ask Dad, as she knew the answer, Mom retrieved six plates of steaming apple pie before passing them around and sitting in one of the lounge chairs. My mouth watered at the smell, and I was relieved for a pleasant distraction from the tension. Levi appeared to feel the same as he gracefully dug in.

      A few minutes into eating, my grandparents begun to ask Levi a few questions about his life, but I could tell it was mostly out of politeness. After all, according to them he was 'the reason the bloodline would end,' even though it had nothing to do with him. The thought made me want to scoff all over again. I hope he would be the reason the bloodline would end. It would mean we'd stay together, after all.

      Levi answered them cordially, not going out of his way to seem overly eager to please—which I appreciated. His authenticity never failed to attract me.

      I couldn't stop thinking about how Christmas was only a few hours away. I couldn't eye-fuck him in front of my family, but it was hard not to imagine the oversized sweater he wore being torn off from his lithe body.

      I was as prepared as I would ever be for our first time, and I was confident I wouldn't disappoint him.

      He gently nudged me with his elbow when he caught me staring, side-eyeing me with a subtle smirk.

      I threw an arm around his shoulders and crossed one leg over the other when I was finished with my slice of pie, and he continued to nibble on his while leaning into my side. I caught Oma and Opa's obvious stares, but they didn't comment, and my parents barely gave us a second glance as they had a lively conversation about Germany's societal evolution.

      Luckily, the thing about old people was that they retired to bed early as hell. On top of traveling the entire night before, they had even less energy than they normally would. Around eight-thirty, they decided to wrap up the night and get ready for bed.

      Unfortunately, they were staying in the guest room downstairs, the same floor Levi and I would be watching TV on. That had always been the guest bedroom they stayed in when they visited, but I didn't have a boyfriend to make-out with during a movie until now.

      Oma and Opa bid us a forcibly warm goodnight before Mom led them down the hall, ready to help them get settled in. 

      Surprisingly, my dad spoke up after standing up from his recliner, plate with his second slice of pie in hand. "Don't mind them, Eren. They're just set in their ways," he said, glancing at Levi as if to acknowledge the words were for him, as well.

      "Thanks, but I don't really care what they think," I told him honestly, and I felt Levi squeeze my knee in silent response—which my dad didn't fail to miss.

      He looked as if he was going to respond, but opted to sigh, grabbing our plates from the coffee table and heading for the kitchen instead.

      "Let's move over here," I said to Levi once we were left alone, nodding toward the side of the couch my grandparent's were sitting on that faced the TV. He followed my lead, settling in beside me. I had to force myself not to use Telekinesis to instinctively pull the remote to my hand—something that was otherwise so normal for me. Instead, I leaned mostly off the couch until I could reach the coffee table and plucked it from the remote stand.

      "So? Was that as bad as felt, or was it just me?" I asked him, slinging an arm around his shoulders again.

      He shrugged against me. "Honestly, considering you're the first person I've been with whose family knows I exist, it could be much worse," he said, looking up at me.

      I tried to ignore the fact that he didn't yet understand how dysfunctional we could be—but it was true that their disapproval of Levi could have been worse. "I'll take your word for it, considering you're the first person I've brought home," I said with a grin, unable to help myself from leaning down and planting a kiss on his lips.

      He hummed, running his hand along my thigh. I subconsciously spread my legs, heat welling up in my gut. It was so difficult to resist him now.

      He caressed the seam of my jeans with the tips of his fingers, and I pulled away from him with a part of my lips.

      "Wanna watch a movie?" I whispered against him, and he slid his bottom lip between his teeth.

      "What if we went upstairs and watched one in your room?" he asked in a suggestive tone, his index finger running over the collar of my sweater.

      I smiled. "We can't, your present's in there," I told him smugly, pursing my lips as I glanced down at his.

      He narrowed his eyes at me. "You can't just hide it?" he asked suspiciously, his breath caressing my skin and threatening a shiver down my spine.

      "Nope. It's really big," I lied, grinning as I caressed his hip with my hand.

      "Oh yeah?" he raised an eyebrow, glancing down at my lap between us with a knowing glimmer in his eyes. I scoffed through a smile, catching on to his insinuation.

      "That present's for later. It's movie time. What do you want to watch?" I asked, finally settling back against the couch. As hot as it sounded to bend him over the armrest right then and there, I had to stick to my plan. Plus, I was pretty sure my dad was still in the kitchen. I could certainly file the idea off for a later date, though.

      He didn't seem to mind the distance, relaxing against me without complaint. "I get to pick?" he teased.

      "Of course. It's your birthday, after all." I turned on the TV, the Roku home screen portraying all of the streaming platforms we owned.

      "Not yet, it isn't. If it was I'd be asking why we were down here and not in your room," he said casually, still looking ahead. I bit my lip on a small smile, handing him the remote once he looked up at me knowingly.

      "Does it have to be a Christmas movie?" he asked next, looking through the different apps.

      "It would suit the mood, but no, it doesn't have to be," I told him, holding him against my side as the house's heater thrummed to life.

      "We'll start with a classic, then," he said, opening Disney Plus. For some reason I was expecting The Nightmare Before Christmas—even though I felt that was more of a Halloween movie—but he pulled up Home Alone, instead.

      "I love Home Alone," I said. Yet another movie my family and I watched every year back when we tried to get along.

      "As you should. It's the greatest Christmas movie," he said as he pressed play, handing me the remote.

      I set it down beside me. "I don't know about that," I replied.

      "Then what would you declare the winner?" he asked, looking up at me as the Twentieth Century Fox intro began.

      I grinned down at him, gaging his reaction. "Die Hard," I said plainly.

      He scoffed at me as Christmas music began sounding from the speakers. "Don't tell me you're one of those people that believe that's a Christmas movie," he said in a grim tone.

      Amused he took the bate, I held my free hand up in defense. "Hey! It takes place during Christmas, it has a family element to it, and it's cool as fuck. What more do you need?" I claimed, and he dramatically rolled his eyes.

      "A Christmas movie needs charm, it needs some kind of driven plot-point centered around the holiday itself. Just because it takes place during Christmas doesn't make it a Christmas movie," he said matter-of-factly.

      I waved my hand through the air. "So a robbery that happens during a Christmas Eve party isn't a plot-point centered around the holiday?" I countered. 

      "The movie could have taken place during any holiday, Christmas or not, and that plot would still function," he argued as the bad guy dressed as a cop begun trying to get the family's attention.

      "With that reasoning, you could argue that Home Alone could also take place during any holiday and they'd still go out of the country," I said, gesturing to the TV where Kevin begun talking to his mom.

      "No, that same reasoning doesn't work—the brother flew the family out because he missed them during the holidays, a feeling only Christmas usually conveys, and the robbers targeted homes in the neighborhood because they knew families would be traveling. Christmas decorations are also involved in Kevin's ploy to take them down." Levi looked utterly proud at his counterpoint, but I was ready to shoot it down.

      "In that case, I could argue that Die Hard does have the same charm. John McClane goes to LA for Christmas to try and fix his relationship with his wife. According to you, only Christmas conveys that kind of emotion in someone, right? Plus, he wouldn't have been there to fight the terrorists if it weren't for the holiday, and he uses Christmas presents to save his wife and kill the bad guy," I said.

      He was momentarily silent, eyes glued to the TV before dramatically crossing his arms over his chest. "Take a debate class and watch the damn movie, then," he grumbled.

      I shook him with my arm wrapped around his shoulders, pumping my other fist into the air. "I won! I won and you know it," I exclaimed, smiling a toothy grin and shaking with laughter.

      "I gave up because you're too damn stubborn to see reason. There's a difference," he bit back, refusing to look up at me.

      I leaned down and nosed his cheek, forcing him to look at me. His glower bored into my eyes as we were only centimers apart, but my smile stretched from ear-to-ear. "I didn't think you'd give up so easily," I teased, trailing my fingers along his arm.

      He scoffed, but leaned into me. "You'd talk about this through the entire movie if I didn't put an end to it, and I don't know about you, but I would like to watch what I picked out," he said, his breath that still whispered of apple pie gently caressing my lips.

      "Probably," I muttered before closing any remaining distance, molding our lips together and tasting the sweetness that lingered on his tongue. He melted into me, nothing but chaos emitting from the TV that was quickly drowned out.

      I heard footsteps slide against the wooden floor from the hallway, and I pulled away from him to see my mom lean against the entryway of the living room. I raised an eyebrow at her from over my shoulder as she tiredly crossed her arms.

      She looked between the two of us with an indecipherable stare before narrowing her focus on my neck. "Your grandparents are going to sleep and your dad is in the basement. You need to keep it down." With a tilt of her head, she knowingly raised her eyebrows, and I remembered my outburst after winning the debate.

      "Okay, okay, we will," I lifted a hand up beside me, hoping she would leave it at that.

      "Turn the TV down just a bit, please. Is Levi staying the night?" She glanced at Levi, directing her focus to him, and he glanced at me as I fingered at the remote.

      After the two of us shared a knowing look, I nodded. "Yeah."

      She pursed her lips to the side, allowing the idea to simmer before letting out a soft sigh. "Just... keep it down," she exhaustedly repeated, lifting a hand to rub her forehead as she uncrossed her arms and turned around.

      "Wait, Mom, can you dim the chandelier?" I asked once the thought occurred to me. She paused, glancing at me oddly for a moment before she reached for the short slab along the wall and lowered it until a faint warm glow remained.

      "Thanks. 'Night," I said, and she didn't respond as she left the room and headed for the stairs.

      I turned to Levi with a sheepish smile, and he pressed his lips together on a smirk.

      I turned the volume of the TV down a few notches, and we cuddled into each other as the plot unraveled. We had gotten to the point of Kevin fighting with his brother in the kitchen, sending milk flying everywhere.

      It was difficult to focus on the movie after that. I glanced at the living room clock to the right. It was almost nine, which meant I still had more than three hours to wait before I was able to take Levi upstairs.

      Midnight had luckily gotten used to staying in the room on her own for short periods of time, but I'd probably have to check on her at least once before it was time to reveal her to Levi.

      But the truth is, it was hardly about Midnight anymore. Levi was sitting next to me, comfortable, warm, and drowning in his sweater, basically waiting for me to fuck him. And god, it was tempting.

      I didn't realize how stimulating it would feel to physically ache for someone. It wasn't just on an emotional level anymore. I had practically gone to writing myself off as asexual to sitting here craving one person, unable to stop imagining him being stripped underneath me. 

      There was a word for that—demisexual? I couldn't imagine it with anyone else other than Levi. Though I have had sex before, the thought didn't feel right with anyone but Levi.

      Levisexual. That had a better ring to it.

      I huffed a laugh to myself, and he glanced up at me with his bright, silver eyes that reflected the soft speckles of light from the chandelier. Before I knew it, we had gotten to the point of the movie where Kevin was left at home while the family was on a plane. I could spend hours thinking about Levi alone, and not even realize a minute had passed. That was how much his presence in my mind felt like tea in a pot, or a fish in the ocean. It felt right. Easy. Comfortable.

      He was comfort.

      "What is it?" he asked quietly, as I hadn't laughed while anything remotely funny was happening.      

      I gave him a lopsided smile, eyeing his lips. "I just thought of something. You said I didn't seem like I was defined by sexuality, right? Well, I think I do have a name for what I am," I began.

      He raised an eyebrow at me. "Oh yeah?" And what would that be?" he asked with curious suspicion.

      I paused. "Levisexual." I accentuated the word as it left me, and he took a moment to process what I'd said before he snorted and tucked his head into my shoulder.

      "You're stupid," he muttered into my sweater, and I tried my best to keep my laugh quiet as I shook against him.

      By the time the movie was over, it was a quarter to eleven. Dad had left the basement at some point and went upstairs to bed. My leg bounced, anxious for time to pass. It was as if it was mocking me with each tick of its hand, knowing I was desperate for the next day.

      Levi slid his hand over my knee where he then squeezed, slowing the movement until my leg stilled. But his hand lingered, fingers tickling the inside of my thigh as they ever-so-slightly inched their way higher.

      Our eyes locked, and I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip. "Wanna watch another movie?" I asked quietly, the credits rolling in the background.

      "Not really," he replied, a slight rasp to his tone. He slid his hand even higher, just barely, but it was enough to fan the embers beginning to spark beneath my skin.

      "No? Nothing else calling out to you?" I asked, briefly sliding my bottom lip between my teeth before letting it slide back into place. He followed the action with his lidded eyes, parting his lips as the tension between us thickened.

      "Only one thing," he whispered, drawing a circle with his index finger only inches from my cock.

      I let out a breathy sigh, feeling the tingling flames of arousal beginning to lick below my navel.

      "I still need to give you your present," I told him, squeezing the flesh of his thigh in my hand as I was quickly flooded with excitement.

      "You're really making me wait?" he asked, draping his other hand over my chest and turning his body to further face mine.

      I shut my eyes for a moment, willing myself to remain composed. But soon after my leg began bouncing against his knee again, the second one joined in, and before I knew it I was practically spazzing out of excitement. There was no way I could hold back any longer, plan be dammed.

      "Fuck it, I can't wait anymore. Let's go." I quickly jumped to my feet, and he looked up at me in brief surprise. "Come on," I waved him up, and he hesitated for a moment before standing from the couch and grabbing his backpack.

      I know I had it all planned out, I know I had been committed to seeing it through for days now, but there wasn't any harm in surprising him a little early, right? The midnight double-entandre was out the window, but it was the thought that counted. The look on his face once he realized what I had done would make the premature reveal worth it.

      He followed me up the stairs to my room, and I braced myself on the other side of the closed door, pausing.

      "Okay. Before we go in there, I just have one thing to grab." He looked up at me confusedly before I cracked the door open, just barely slipping through the gap.

      In the dark, Midnight was laying on the bed, the catnip carrot tucked beneath her paws. I glanced at the basket of toys to see an empty space where it used to be, and shook my head. "Sneaky," I whispered, going to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. Even though the moon faced the window and cast a pale blue hue over the room, I wanted to ensure I could see every part of him tonight.

      I returned to Levi a moment later with a small, rectangular box in my hand, and he looked down at it curiously. I held it out to him, suddenly alight with nerves, and he set down his backpack before delicately taking it.

      "This is just part one," I told him, and he glanced up at me with a bite of his lip before unwrapping it and carefully lifting the top off.

      His eyes slightly widened as they landed on the small black collar inside, and he jerked his head up at me with an open mouth. "You fucking didn't," he quickly said, tone hushed.

      "See for yourself," I said with a bitten-back smile, opening the door up for him.

      He stepped inside, and nearly dropped the box onto the floor. He turned to shove it into my hand once I grabbed his backpack and shut the door behind me, throwing his hands on either side of his head. "You didn't! You fucking—oh my God, Eren," he rushed to say, looking at me with wide eyes before turning back to Midnight.

      She was in the middle of clutching the carrot with her entire body, kicking it with her back paws before she paused and looked up at him.

      "She's all yours. I couldn't help myself," I admitted from behind him, watching him practically gawk at the kitten on the bed. He slowly walked up to her, as if moving too fast would shatter her where she lay. Finally sitting down on the bed beside her, he looked at the baskets of supplies on the floor, then up at me.

      "I fucking knew it. I should have known you were lying straight to my face," he said with a shocked laugh, Midnight abandoning the carrot to crawl onto his lap. Her purr could he heard from where I stood.

      "Are you mad?" I asked him through a guilty smile, placing the box on my desk and setting his backpack onto the floor.

      He released a breath of exasperation, stroking her spine. "Yes... No... fuck. I feel so many emotions right now. My uncle is going to kill me." Despite the grim words, he smiled. It was that toothy smile of his that I had only seen once before. The same smile that could bring a king to his knees, that stole the very breath from my lungs.

      "He won't kill you, he'll kill me. He can't do anything about it if I was the one to give her to you as a gift, can he?" I said before pursing my lips on a sheepish smile.

      He shook his head. "God, you're such an idiot," he said with a breathy laugh.

      "I fucking love seeing you like this," I told him, filled with a painful sense of satisfaction. The sight of his happiness, even above the conflicting emotions, made my heart feel like it would simply burst from my chest.

      He gently picked Midnight up and set her aside before standing from the bed. He stepped up to me and lifted a fist, which he collided with my chest. "I. Hate. You," he said with each playful punch, none of them hard enough to hurt, and not an ounce of malice existing in his tone. I grinned, and after his last punch, he gripped my sweater in both hands and pulled me down, colliding his lips with mine.

      I immediately wrapped my arms around his waist, tugging him against me as he stood on his tippy-toes. He moaned into my parted mouth. Passion drove our kiss to near-aggression as our tongues collided, and my grip on his sides turned tight and unforgiving.

      "God, I want you to fuck me so bad," he breathed before pressing his tongue into my mouth again. The airy plea went straight to my cock, and I groaned against his mouth as I climbed a hand up his lean back and into his silky hair. It was as if an animal had come to life inside of me—one that had been trained and condemned, finally allowed to claw its way to the surface.

      With a tight grip on his scalp, I yanked his head back, and he moaned as a string of saliva kept our broken lips connected. I watched it thin before breaking between us, and ran my tongue over my upper lip, our eyes locked. "You want me to fuck you before midnight? You're gonna have to beg for it," I told him through a wicked smirk.

      His lidded eyes fluttered back, and he pressed his hips against me as my grip on his hair remained unrelenting. "Fuck me, oh god—please, I need you to fuck me, Eren. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it." He panted through his words, neck visibly straining to hold the angle he was forced in, and I bit my lip on a groan before pulling his head closer to me, dipping down to his throat where my teeth toyed with his skin. He had no choice but to obey what I chose to do with him.

      "Yeah? Were you thinking about it with Kenny at dinner?" I asked him, and he nodded frantically, gripping at the front of my sweater. "Were you thinking about it here, while you were meeting my grandparents?"

      "Yes, the whole time," he breathed, and I grinned against his skin before leaving a wet trail up to his ear.

      "Of course you were, you dirty little slut. You just couldn't stop thinking about having my cock inside you, even around my family." Levi let out a throaty moan at my words. "Shh," I hushed against his hear, and he slackened slightly in my hold, as if surrendering.

      "Good boy," I whispered against his ear, and a small, breathy sound escaped him. He was so hard now I could feel him through his sweater and pants, firmly pressing against my leg, which I teasingly shifted against him.

      Before he had the time to brace himself, I let go of his hair and pulled away. "Get on the bed," I ordered, my heart beating quickly. I wasn't sure if it was from nerves or arousal. Maybe a heady, electrifying mixture of both.

      I could have tossed him onto the mattress, but directing him and watching as he listened to my every command was so invigorating—especially when he was usually so stubborn and strong-willed. 

      And he listened without hesitation, climbing on top of it and waiting for my next order. "Take everything off," I said next.

      Midnight had since jumped off the bed with her carrot and now laid by her food bowl, watching Levi from a distance. He glanced at her, a red flush climbing up his neck and spreading through his cheeks.

      He took off his sweater anyway, and I smirked at him, drinking up his perfect, thin, and toned body. "What, you don't like an audience?" I teased. His blush grew deeper, a coral hue turning his porcelain features hot.

      "Fuck, Eren," he whispered.

      "Maybe you do like an audience, hm? Does it turn you on to be watched as you get handled like a little toy?" I grinned, and he forced his eyes to his lap where he undid his pants, lifting his hips to pull them down.

      "I'll take that as a yes," I teased, eyeing the prominent bulge beneath his last layer of clothing. There was a wet patch where his tip pressed impossibly tight against his briefs, and I couldn't tear my eyes away as he slid his thumbs beneath the hem and slowly tugged them down.

      A raspy hum hit the back of my throat as his cock sprung below his navel, my mouth growing dry while he pulled them over his hips and let them pool onto the floor with his pants and sweater.

      "God, you're so fucking perfect," I breathed, and I watched his cock twitch at my praise. I grinned again, walking toward him until he had to crane his neck back to look up at me.

      His sterling eyes looked so fucking innocent as he blinked at me above flushed cheeks and parted lips, but I knew they were silver bullets that could ruin me if given the chance. And I would happily let them, the same way I would ruin him.

      I leaned down and gripped his jaw as I ravished him again, climbing my tongue past his lips and claiming every part of his mouth. He moaned into me, but before joining him on the bed, I backed off and dropped my hand to my side. "I'll be right back," I said. He looked up at me with dazed confusion, and I smirked before turning around.

      I entered the bathroom and left the door open, turning on the faucet and thoroughly washing my hands. I had already showered today before dinner, but I had to make sure there would be nothing that discouraged Levi from making the most of tonight.

      Entering the room again, my eyes darkened to see Levi sat back against the bed, legs open with one knee pulled up to his chest, the other resting flat on the bed.

      "Damn, I could look at this every day," I muttered, and he bit his bottom lip.

      I crawled over him until his head met the pillows. "Eren." He tugged at the hem of my sweater, and I knew what he wanted. Yet, I smirked, trailing my eyes down his unclothed body and the dripping cock between his legs.

      "I don't know, it's kind of hot to be fully clothed while you're naked under me. It's like you're my own personal doll. I can do anything I want with you," I said before sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. He cursed, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes as embarrassment flooded him.

      Smirking, I shifted, bowing over him as one hand braced on the bed while while the other gripped his hip. I dug my nails into his pale skin, leaned down again, and roughly captured his lips. Our teeth clashed without care as he desperately tangled his tongue with mine. With his legs spread on either side of my clothed hips, I gave an experimental thrust, warning him of what was to come, but paused as the headboard thumped against the wall.

      I pulled away from him and grinned, eyeing the headboard behind him before looking down at his startled expression.

      "Well we can't have that, can we?" I teased. "Or do you want everyone to know what I'm doing to you in here?" I thrust my hips again, and his moan synced with the headboard's collision. "Wanna be a little attention whore, let my whole family know I'm drilling my cock into you?"

      He pinched his eyes together as a slutty whine escaped him, his nails digging into my sweater while he clutched me.

      "Eren, fuck, don't do this to me. I literally just met your grandparents," he pleaded, burying his head into my neck

      "They don't approve of us, though. Wouldn't it be fun to mess with them a bit? To let them know we don't give a fuck about what they think, how good I can make you feel?" I smirked as I toyed with the idea of shaking the bed just to make it seem like I was fucking him.

      "Eren, please," he groaned. Though his words were of disapproval, there was an aroused tinge to his voice that warned me the idea secretly excited him. The thrill of acting in defiance, of throwing caution to the wind, of doing something so debauched in the face of resentful family.

      Ultimately, as hot as it sounded, I decided against it. There would be plenty of time to engage the thrill. I pulled away from him and grabbed his jaw again, my fingers tight on either side of his face while a gasp slipped through his lips. "Fine. Get on the floor." Using the grip I had on him, I pulled him up into a sitting position, and he scrambled for purchase while grasping at the comforter.

      It made me realize how much potential there was to physically control him. I briefly thought of my powers, but quickly shoved the unreasonable thought aside.

       I let go of him and came to a stand before pulling an extra blanket off the foot of the bed, draping it over the floor.

      On slightly trembling legs, he got off the bed and sunk his feet into the blanket, looking up at me. I took one step up to him and threw a hand around the back of his neck, gripping either side of his throat as I yanked him toward me. Our mouths met again, and he slipped his hands under my sweater to press his fingers against my abdomen.

      But after only a moment of kissing, I used the hold I had on his neck to push him to his knees. He easily obeyed, sinking down in front of me until his head was level with the bulge pressing against my pants. He eyed it, tongue toying with his teeth as a glimmer of yearning appeared in his eyes.

      "You're such a little cockslut, aren't you? One second on your knees and you already can't wait for me to fuck your pretty mouth," I groaned, stroking his hair back with my hand before bringing it down to dip my thumb against his bottom lip.

      It lowered against the pressure, and I used the incentive to push it against his tongue. He parted his lips with ease, and I slipped my thumb into his mouth before he closed his lips around it. Keeping eye contact with me, he bobbed his head, taking my thumb into his mouth as if it were a cock. I slipped it out and replaced it with my index and middle finger, watching in awe as he performed the same treatment.

      "Fuck yeah. I can't wait to feel your mouth around me again. You're so good," I praised, and he fluttered his eyes shut, obediently swirling his tongue around my fingers.

      Patience running thin and sweat prickling under my arms, I slid them out, noticing how they glimmered under the lamplight before I tugged my sweater off and unbuttoned my jeans. He immediately glued his eyes to my abdomen, hungrily drinking it in. I may not have been ripped to shreds, but I was confident in my body, and Levi's devoted gaze only served to fuel my self-assurance. He always made me feel on top of the world—like I could do anything. It was exhilarating.

      I didn't pull my jeans down, I merely unzipped them and lowered my briefs enough to free my cock. He let out a shaky, heavy breath, eyeing the red, engorged tip. I was so fucking hard for him; a drop of precum had collected on the tip and threatened to fall at any moment. He looked absolutely desperate to lick it off, to not let it go to waste, but as soon as he began to move toward it, I grabbed a handful of his hair, and he gasped.

      "Don't move. Put your hands behind your back," I ordered. He swallowed but listened, like the good boy he was, and waited for me to continue. "I'm gonna fuck your mouth, and you're not gonna move unless I tell you to. If you do, I'm gonna cum down your throat and leave you high and dry, wait until tomorrow to give you what you want."

      He clenched his eyes shut, as if the threat itself was absolutely devastating, and let out a broken sigh. "Okay," he rasped.

      "That's right," I practically cooed. "Now lean back against the bed." He shifted, doing as I said until the side of the mattress was behind him. He remained on his knees, arms behind his back pressing into the bed, his feet under the bed frame behind him, and hard cock proud between his legs. "Open up your pretty mouth. Wider," I encouraged, my tone laced with a deadly sweetness that coaxed him deeper into the pit we were tumbling down, a lure into a bear trap.

      I stepped closer to him and held the base of my cock in my hand, bringing the tip up to his lips where I smeared precum across them. I could see how hard he was struggling not to lick it up, tongue twitching in his open mouth.

      I finally slid the tip in, and moaned at the heat that consumed it. I kept my eyes glued to his face as he took it, breathing heavily through his nose. I fucked only the tip into his mouth, watching intently as his glossy lips hugged it each time I pushed in, and groaning at how easily I could use him like this.

      Though I had studied what it meant to be a dominant for weeks, what it looked like, and had been confident in my abiltiies, there was still that nagging sense of doubt in the back of my head, wondering if I could really pull it off.

      But nothing came as naturally as it did to have him like this, on his knees in front of me, making him take it. It was as if the animal that had come to life inside me had taken over until I embodied its likeness. I had become one with it. Levi resembled prey as he looked up at me through long, dark lashes, though instead of begging to be set free, he yearned for his capture.

      "You're so damn pretty like this," I muttered, pushing a bit more of my girth past his lips. He accommodated it with a wide jaw, taking me in like he was born to do it.

      In the bathroom during Thanksgiving, he had been in full control of the situation, driven by jealousy, insecurity, and passion—the need to prove his worth. But now I was in control, I had full reigns over how much of my cock he took and how I chose to use it. And while I used him, I would worship him all the same. I would solidify his worth on his knees, praise him for the perfect being that he was, never allow him to doubt how much he belonged to me—how every part of me belonged to him.

      I knew he felt it in the way I fucked my cock in his mouth, letting my head fall back as a heavy sigh escaped me. "Fuck," I breathed, lowering my eyes to see him swallow around the tip that neared his throat. His hallowed cheeks were flushed as his puffed lips sucked me in, eyes locked with mine and obediently taking it. God, he looked so fucking tempting that I couldn't help but snap my hips forward until my cock was buried at the back of his throat.

      I let out a deep groan, and Levi choked as his gag reflex was triggered, tears springing to his eyes. "That's it," I whispered, setting my hips to a steady pace, drowning in the gurgled moans that escaped him each time I snapped them forward.

      "Fuck, yeah. Taking me so well," I praised, leaning my head back with a hiss. He felt so good, a warm, wet heat enveloping me each time I sank into him. Feeling the tip of my cock slide against the back of his throat, the texture of his tongue rubbing along the underside of my shaft, all of it was nearly too much to handle and not enough all at once.

      I bowed over him, his small body practically encased by my own, one hand brutally tangled in his hair. Breath heavy, I looked down between my shoulders to see his arms twitching behind him, his fingers wrung tight.

      "I bet you wanna touch yourself while sucking me off, hm? You wanna get off on being used like a whore," I said, hardly recognizing my own voice by how low and rugged it escaped me. He moaned, arching his lean back as he made a pathetic attempt at nodding his head. The slight bump of his teeth against my sensitive skin made me hiss—a painful pleasure that only snapped my hips harder by their own volition.

      "Be good and take a little more of me; maybe I'll let you," I told him. A throaty groan escaped him as I grabbed either side of his head with both hands, turning into a gurgled choke once I used my grip to shove him against my cock. I clenched my eyes shut, jaw pressed tight, a ragged sound seeping through my teeth at the overwhelming sensation of him engulfing me.

      He took it without complaint, letting me move his head to collide with my hips each time I shoved forward. Every other thrust, a muffled gag would escape him, yet his teary, glazed eyes worshiped me with devotion, while his rock-hard untouched cock dripped precum between his legs. "Fuck yes, you're so good and tight for me. Fucking touch yourself, jerk off to having my cock stuffed in your mouth," I demanded.

      He desperately unraveled his hands and brought his arms in front of him, gripping himself tightly. I doubled over, bracing one hand on the bed and keeping one fisted in his hair, watching morbidly as he stroked his cock while choking on the girth that filled his throat.

      The sounds that tore through him were gurgled and debauched, muffled by the cock in his mouth and my body that surrounded him. Once wearing a cautious shell, he was now a stripped, exposed nerve, eyes deliriously falling back and tears casting down his flushed cheeks while a frantic hand slid over his glistening length.

      The string staving off my my release was steadily growing taught, threatening to snap as I watched him pleasure himself, all the while being good and taking what I gave him. "Fuck, you're so good for me," I groaned, and the moan that escaped him was wrecked and pitched.

      Seconds later, with a few more desperate strokes to his cock, his entire body jerked. As I slammed into the back of his throat, ropes of cum shot from his tip, streaking across his stomach and thighs. I felt some of it land on my leg, the sensation hot and searing. He released broken, shaky gurgles, delirious as I used his mouth through his high.

      "Yeah, fuck, that's it." I braced my hands on the bed in front of me, beginning to fuck his throat in earnest. The obscenity of Levi's sounds only grew in his overstimulation, his head shoved against the bed each time I violently snapped my hips.

      His body begun to sag with exertion, and as I felt him slip, I grabbed his head with a brutal hand and held him in place. Within a few, burning seconds, a low groan tumbled from my lips. I stilled, hips flushed with his mouth as my cock twitched almost painfully. White heat seared behind my eyes, every nerve in my body struck at once as pleasure consumed me. Cum spilled into the back of his throat, a broken, muffled whine escaping Levi between each desperate bob of his Adam's apple. He swallowed everything I gave him, and after a few more weak thrusts to ensure I had nothing left, I slowly pulled out.

       A quiet hiss escaped me as cold air hit cum-mixed saliva, laced between heavy pants, but it was nothing compared to the ragged, deep breaths that frantically filled Levi's lungs. The sounds were raspy and thick, perfectly in tune with his wrecked expression. I released the grip I had on his hair, and without my hand holding him up, his knees gave out. He slumped down, legs spread on either side of his hips, and he looked up at me with lidded glossy eyes as I tucked myself back in my briefs.

      I came down to a slow squat in front of him, lifting a hand to gently stroke his damp hair out of his face. The action was so delicate in comparison to the ruthlessness of the blowjob; he nearly shivered under my touch.

      I grinned at him, our breaths colliding, and he let out a weak scoff. "Are you sure you've never done this before?" His voice was merely a husk of what it usually was—torn, raspy, and quiet. He had been absolutely wrecked, and I couldn't have felt more alive at the sound of it.

      "Nope. Nothing like this," I said honestly, and he leaned his head back against the bed as far as it would allow.

      "You're a fucking natural," he groaned.

      I smiled wider, but slid my fingers down to the column of his throat. "Are you saying you doubted my skills?" I teased, a playfully hurt tone to my voice.

      He rolled his eyes, the action was lazy and prolonged. "It would have been unfair of me to set high expectations when this was your first time trying anything like this," he rasped.

      "I think it's safe to say you can keep those expectations high. Do you need a minute?" I asked, dragging my eyes down his flushed body and red knees, his abdomen glistening with cum under the soft light.

      His glimmering eyes locked with mine, swimming with dark anticipation despite being so thoroughly ruined. "Fuck no," he breathed. "We're just getting started."

      With a wicked grin, I grabbed his shoulder and yanked him forward without warning. He let out a short gasp of surprise before I maneuvered him to fall on his hands and knees atop the blanket.

      He looked back at me with parted lips, still wet with remnants of spit and cum that hadn't made it down his throat, watching me as I settled on my knees behind him.

      "Damn, I love seeing you like this," I said in a husky tone, running a steady hand over his bare ass. I slid my hand up his tailbone until I reached the small of his back, feeling it dip into an arch beneath my palm. I soaked in the way he looked on his knees in front of me as if he were a treasured stone, every nude inch of him needing to be studied and admired. I wanted to put him on a pedestal like this, sit and stare at him for hours until every inch of his body was engraved into my memory.

      I gripped both of his cheeks in my hands, feeling how they filled out my palms and spilled around my fingers, how the fat molded under my touch. I slowly spread them apart, letting out a sigh at the sight of his tight, pink, twitching hole.

      "Mm, you're so fucking hot," I muttered before releasing one of his cheeks, watching it jiggle back into place before I lifted my hand and brought it back down with a harsh smack to his flesh. Levi tensed, letting out a ragged, raspy whine that barely slipped from the back of his throat. "Fuck, Eren," he breathed. The sound of the slap had echoed across the room, and I wondered if it could be heard by my parents down the hall, if they had any idea what I was doing to him in here.

      "Sit still, baby," I said, rubbing my thumb over the already reddening skin of his ass in a contradictory gentle manner. He sighed hotly before I stood up from behind him and stalked my way over to my bedside table. He followed me with lidded eyes alight with yearning, as if I would disappear if he tore them away. I kept my eyes glued to him before they fell onto my digital clock. It was already far past eleven. A twisted smirk played at my lips as an idea came to me, though it was hidden from Levi's prying eyes, my back turned to him.

      Unexpectedly, a gasp sounded from behind me. "Wait—is that a... tattoo?" he rasped.

      I stilled, looking over my shoulder at him, before down at my own back as if it was possible to make the ink out without a mirror. "Is this really your first time seeing it?" I asked. I constantly forgot it was there myself, so I wasn't surprised I hadn't brought it up.

      "I've never seen your back without a shirt," he quietly explained. I guess he was right—when we had done anything minimal in the past, there was no reason for him to see my back, and we were divided from each other in the locker rooms at school.

      I hummed, turning back to my bedside table. "I'll give you a better look tomorrow." Pausing to analyze the tattoo I might actually kind of regret was a bit of a mood killer. I pulled open the first drawer and grabbed what I had bought last week—a fresh tube of lube and a pre-lubed condom from a pack of thirty.

      I stopped in front of him with both items in one hand, and he craned his neck back to look up at me, eyelashes still dampened with drying tears. I leaned down and brushed my thumb over his lips, combing my fingers into his jet-black hair. I felt my cock twitch in my pants, rousing from its softened state at the sight of him. "So fucking pretty," I muttered, pulling away to kneel behind him again.

      I set the lube and condom down beside me, focusing on the thick globes of his ass once more. He arched toward me, pushing himself closer, and I ran my thumb along the start of his crack as I leaned over him. "You're like a bitch in heat, aren't you? You just can't get enough," I teased through a sly smirk.

      He released a quiet groan. "Eren, I swear, if you don't fuck me soon I'm going to flip us over and do it myself," he threatened through a rasp.

      Frowning, I bowed over his lithe body before fisting a hand in his hair. He gasped as I yanked his head back, forcing his spine to arch further, his jaw falling open. I pressed my lips to his ear, my hips flush with his ass.

      "You don't get to decide when you get fucked. I do. And you're gonna be patient like a good boy and take what I give you." 

      The moan that escaped him was weak and thin, strung along just barely by how tightly his neck was pulled. But the tiniest, yet deadliest smirk just barely lifted his lips.

      "Do I make myself clear?" I shoved my clothed cock against his ass, slightly lurching him forward.

      "Y-Yes," he rasped, and I released his head, watching it fall forward while he let out a deep, shaky sigh. After leaving a delicate stroke to his cheek, I sat back on my heels. Hot and cold, the way I treated him. The way he spoke to me. The way he smiled, because he knew. It was exhilarating. My cock was already almost fully hard again, all because of how much power I held over him, how he looked as he succumbed to it.

      I leaned back, admiring his pliant body. The way his shoulders, while not too broad still carried definition, slanted into his ribcage and dipped to his thin waist. How his waist curved into his lean hips, the lamplight washing over his back muscles that arched with his bowed spine, all existing to shine a spotlight upon his round ass—which stuck up toward me as if begging to be touched.

      I groaned, grabbing his cheeks again before running my thumbs along the inside of his crack near his rim. He let out a faint whine, barely heard from the muffle of his lips, yet it screamed of his desperation nonetheless. 

      "Let me play with you a little bit longer, baby," I said, a rough edge to my voice that spoke of my own thinning restraint. He turned me on to no fucking end, and if I didn't have enough patience to see this through, he'd be stuffed full of my cock in the next two seconds. But I had to make this experience as memorable as possible.

      "Please," he muttered, a mantra I wanted to hear tumble from his lips over and over again. But that could wait. His plea was enough to get me to scoot back on my knees, my breath fanning over the red skin of his cheek.

      I've never eaten someone out before, but if I was sure of anything tonight, it was that I would soar Levi's expectations to the ceiling. Any inkling of doubt he carried that I would make him feel better than anyone he'd ever been with would fly through the window.

      I pulled his cheeks apart, allowing my breath to ghost over his hole. It twitched under the sensation, and Levi rested his head on his forearms beneath him. I allowed it, knowing constantly holding himself up could be exerting. 

      I begun by copying the constant videos I'd watched online, licking a stripe up his crack and feeling him jerk. The rest came naturally, a simmer beneath my instincts rising to a boil on the surface. "Eren," he whimpered.

      I flattened my tongue on his hole before spreading his cheeks further and pushing my head forward, forcing the muscles apart and sinking my tongue into him. The moan that escaped him was long and low, muffled by only what I could assume were his arms he tucked his head into. 

      I groaned against his skin, pulling my tongue out and feeling it roll against the tight ridges surrounding it. I swirled the tip of my tongue around the ring of muscle, hearing him choke on a whine before I dove into him again. Gluing my mouth to his ass, I kept his cheeks forced apart with a tight, clawed grip. The musk of him was so unique it drove me crazy, raw and sweet, a taste solely for myself from this point on.

      The sounds between my mouth and his ass were obscene as I sucked up any saliva falling from my lips, shoving it back into him until he was slick and wet with my own spit. I dragged my tongue over his loosening hole over and over again, drawing constant, drawn-out, high-pitched moans from him that he desperately tried to contain.

      I nearly became aggressive as I ate him out, teeth pressing into his skin and nails digging marks into his flesh. The sounds pouring from him became filthier, frantic, chants of fuck, fuck, fuck, Eren, or God, please, more, a scratch to an itch that could only be satiated by him. 

      I finally ripped myself from him with a groan, running my tongue over my bottom lip. I could feel the cold air hitting my mouth and chin, where saliva had coated my skin. "Fuck, you taste so good," I said, pushing my damp hair back from my face.

      He shivered where he kneeled, muscles twitching. I leaned over him until my stomach was flush with his back, reaching one hand beneath him as the other braced myself. I reached for his cock, which was hard again and dripping profusely between his legs. He let out a low, raspy sound as I thumbed his wet tip, running my tongue along the shell of his ear before sinking my teeth over the small pierced hole through his lobe.

      "Eren, god, I'm losing my goddamn mind," he keened, pressing his ass back against my hard cock before thrusting forward into my hand.

      I couldn't let him see that he was doing the very same thing to me, that he had me practically trembling with restraint, the carnal need to undo him. Yet I had a feeling it slipped through my low, almost shaky voice. "Yeah. I'll give you what you want," I breathed, kissing along the column of his neck before leaning back again.

      I stripped my pants and briefs off until I was completely bare behind him. I grabbed the bottle of lube, uncapping it and peeling off the protective seal. Squeezing a generous amount on my fingers—lack of preparation can come after our first time together—I pressed the tip of my index finger against his hole.

      He let out a heavy sigh, tilting his forehead down into his arms. I ran the pad of my finger around the muscle, toying with it before sinking it into him to the second knuckle.

      He was tight even with one finger. All of this was new to me, too. The way it felt, the way it looked—but god, it was hotter than anything I could have imagined. Nothing had ever made me feel this way; it was how I knew Levi was the only one to draw this kind of emotion from me, this kind of undying need.

      I slowly pushed in another, and he groaned. "So damn tight with just two fingers. Imagine how you'll feel around my cock."

      "Fuck, a–ah." He arched into me, resting his head on its side to look back at my hand fingering him. We locked eyes—his pupils were blown even beneath the dim light, thin rings of silver gleaming like a white fire, and glistening lips parted with heavy pants.

      I glanced up at my clock. Seven minutes until midnight. I returned my attention to his ass, focusing on stretching him with the two fingers buried inside of him.

      It was hypnotizing, really, watching how he sucked me in, how the muscles twitched around my digits, how the lube glimmered, squelching between his hole and my skin. I was quickly realizing fingering him might be my favorite thing to do so far. Everything about his ass was addictive, even the little freckle right beneath his left cheek.

      I drew out the time I spent scissoring him open for as long as possible. He twitched beneath my touch, every few seconds letting out drawn sighs and impatient moans. I smacked one of his cheeks with a quiet groan before adding a third finger, spreading his ass apart with one hand.

      He clawed at the blanket beneath him, eyes screwed shut. "Oh–oh, fuck—Eren, Eren, please, I need more, mmh," he pleaded, frantically rocking back on my fingers. I hummed in the back of my throat, shoving my three fingers as far as they could reach. He jolted with a raspy cry, his head tilting back. 

      "Yeah, that's it, baby," I muttered, curling my fingers up as they sunk into him and raising my eyebrows as he let out a shout. "Shh, shh," I hushed despite the grin that spread over my face, watching him hurriedly sink his teeth into his arm to muffle himself. He let out delirious moans as I ruthlessly fingered what I assumed was his prostate, as he convulsed and practically sobbed each time I rubbed against it.

      "Think you're stretched enough now? Or should I keep going a little longer?" I taunted, sliding my bottom lip between my teeth as I watched him squirm.

      He removed his mouth from around his arm. "Please, please, I'm ready—fuck I'm gonna cum again if you don't stop, Eren, ah," he cried.

      I smirked, a sense of fulfillment inflating my chest. I mulled over the idea of making him cum again, but decided to slow the pace of my fingers and pulled them away from his prostate. His toes curled, a shaky sigh escaping him as he looked back at me with a pleading stare.

      My grin widened, and his steel eyes narrowed. "Fuck you," he muttered.

      I chuckled. "Mmh, that's what I'm supposed to be doing to you," I said, dragging my eyes down his body and lifting my free hand to my own cock. I stroked myself in sync with my fingers thrusting inside of him, running my tongue over my teeth. He glued his eyes to my hand, watching as it glided over my length, his jaw flexing with a deep swallow before his lips parted on an eager breath.

      "Then do it already." He couldn't tear his eyes away from my movements, and I put on a show for him by running my thumb over the tip, gliding precum over the sensitive skin. He shivered, forcing his eyes to the blanket beneath him. One day I would keep going like this, jerk myself off until I came all over him—painted him and claimed him as my own.

      I eyed my clock once I pulled my hand away and tore open the condom, rolling it on. "It's 11:58. Should I fuck you now?" With a smirk wedged between my teeth, I gripped the base of my cock and brought it to his hole. The idea of fucking him raw simmered a dark sense of curiosity and eagerness under my skin, but remembering his firm insistence on protection, I cast the thought aside.

      "Yes, please, god," he breathed, making pathetic, futile attempts at rocking back against me. Each time he did I would pull the tip away, only to return it to the twitching rim of muscle once he would groan.

      "You think so? Toying with you was pretty fun. Do you deserve to be fucked now?" I slid the length of my cock in the crevice of his cheeks with a groan, watching as it glided smoothly over his skin with the lubricated condom. I slowly fucked myself between his cheeks, brushing the tip against his hole each time I slid forward, making him gasp whenever I was close to slipping inside.

      "Oh fuck, yes, yes, I've been so good," he rasped, tilting his head back. The clock read 11:59. Each time the number changed, drawing nearer, we fell further down a dark spiral, the string keeping us tied to the surface growing tighter. The minute it would snap was a taunting whisper that echoed across the walls closing us in.

      "Yeah? Have you been my good little whore, let me do whatever I wanted to you?" I let out a ragged sigh, pleasure shooting through my gut as I closed his cheeks around my cock, fucking them like a toy.

      "Yes, yes, yes, please," he babbled, "I'm your good whore," his words strung along with a delirious need that ran straight to my shaft.

      The moment the red numbers struck twelve, the taut string snapped by its thread. I gripped his hips and lined my cock up with his hole before pushing through the tight ring, forcing the muscles to part for my wide girth. My jaw fell slack as a strained groan tumbled from my lips. "Oh my fucking god, you're still so tight."

      He let out a low, long moan that pitched high near the end as I sunk my entire shaft into him, sheathed by his suffocating heat.

      Hips flushed with his ass, we panted, caking the dimly lit room. Levi gripped the blanket with white-knuckled fingers, head bowed between his shoulder blades and neck glistening with sweat. I leaned over him until my breath fanned over his ear.

      "Happy Birthday," I whispered, bracing my hand on the floor while the other gripped his jaw, forcing his head up to face the clock. I drew my hips back and snapped them forward, immediately setting a brutal pace. A string of long, whiny gasps filled his lungs, escaping him as raspy, raw cries of debauched filth.

      "Ah, oh god, Eren, fuck, fuck—" wrecked sounds escaped him without pause, and I lifted three fingers to his glossy lips. His tongue rolled out without question, taking my fingers into his month

      "Gotta keep you quiet." I grunted, feeling a drop of sweat on my brow. The sensation of Levi around me was otherworldly—a tight, soft heat, wet from lubrication, dragging against my cock each time I sunk in and pulled out. It was the single greatest feeling in the world. My jaw hung open, saliva collecting on my bottom lip. While Levi eagerly sucked on my fingers, cheeks burning and eyes glimmering with unshed tears, the sound of our skin colliding filled the room. Filthy wet slapping that only pushed me to drill into him harder.

      "Fuck, Levi." I felt my eyes flutter involuntarily when he clamped down on me, his muffled moans becoming high and frantic around my fingers, before he suddenly stilled. I watched in awe as he spasmed, hole fluttering around the base of my cock while a second orgasm crashed over him.

      I grinned through a deep moan, pulling my fingers from his mouth and slowing the pace of my hips, drawing out his high with languid thrusts. He let out a weak whine, overstimulated even with the minimal movement.

      "Fuck, yeah," I breathed, rising to sit back on my heels. "You're so hot, cumming on my cock so soon like that." His face flushed with bright shame, eyes screwing shut.

      "Don't—don't stop," he panted, head on its side and resting on his arms as his legs trembled.

      "Oh I don't plan to." I gripped either side of his hips, still just barely thrusting, the heat that engulfed me like molten lava running through my veins.

      I allowed him a few seconds like this, me slowly fucking him open, relishing in his post orgasm, imagining the ropes of cum staining the blanket beneath him.

      It wasn't long before I was resuming my previous pace, steadily growing faster and firmer until I was properly ruining him. I pulled out almost all the way before snapping my hips, burying my cock as deep as it could go. Low, breathy moans harmonized with his high whines.

      "God, you're so tight. I'm gonna love molding you around my cock," I groaned, nails digging red crescent moons into his pale hips. I wanted those shapes to remain permanently etched into his skin, marks for anyone to see whenever he changed in the locker room, staking him as claimed, as mine.

      "Yeah, fuck me open, I'm made for your cock," he moaned, sending shocks of electricity through my brain that made me grow even harder inside of him.

      "Fuck," I cursed, hair falling forward in messy waves as I bowed my head. Shit, I wanted more. Needed more. Needed to watch him fall apart, watch how far he was spiraling. Gripping his sides, I pulled out and flipped him over, barely having half a mind to avoid the stain of cum on the blanket. He fell onto his back with a gasp, onyx hair falling around his head and wispy bangs glued to his glistening forehead.

      Our eyes met with deadly intensity. Grabbing both of his thighs in a tight hold, I spread his legs around my hips and sunk into him again. He tossed his head back with a breathy sigh, fingers tangled into the blanket on either side of him.

      With his mouth facing the air, moans freely tumbled from his lips. Every sound he made went straight to my cock, urging me to thrust harder, faster, rutting into him wrecklessly and shoving him up the blanket each time we collided. I glued my eyes to where we joined, watching myself disappear into him with wild eyes.

      "Eren," he moaned. I snapped my head up to his, drinking in his flushed cheeks, curled eyebrows, and glossy lips forced open. I trailed down to his unblemished neck, and blood pumped dangerously in my ears.

      I slowed my thrusts as I bowed over him, removing my hands from his thighs. I braced one on the floor and curled other around his throat. He looked frantically between my arm to my face, before relaxing his head back against the blanket in surrender—my fingers the only thing supporting his head. With his obedience came his hand, which lifted to securely wrap around my wrist.

      "Mmmh, fuck, you have no idea how often I've thought of doing this to you," I said, studying the position of my hand to ensure it was correct. All of that practice, all of that analysis, all leading to this moment—the skin of his vulnerable throat beneath my palm.

      Fucking him lazily, I increased the pressure around his neck. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth parted as thick sighs fell from his lips. "Shit, you're so fucking good," I moaned. He responded by tapping my hand once, and I immediately felt my memory jog. I squeezed harder, pressure closing around his throat, and he let out a raspy moan of relief.

      I didn't give him any more time to adjust before I started pounding into him mercilessly again, gaze intensely locked to my hand over his windpipe. He wheezed, steel eyes rolling into his skull as his spine bowed.

      "Yeah, I should have known you'd want it like this from the start, fucking slut," I growled, sweat dripping off my chin and onto Levi's glistening chest. Any sounds that slipped past his lips partially died, squeezed to pathetic, airy keens as I held them tight.

      Our skin slapping filled the room as I fucked him violently, head floating higher and higher as I gave him everything I had, and took everything he gave. His tight hole, squelching with lube, sucked me in desperately. He arched his back impossibly further to take me in even deeper, his body convulsing with each deep, merciless thrust.

      "Fuck, fuck," I moaned, feeling my high steadily approaching, my gut coiling tight. It was as if we ascended to a ground untouched by the world, balancing on a state of ecstacy and power, on destruction and paradise. The deeper we spiraled, the more wrecked we became. I never wanted it to end.

      Looking down at how he took me in so ruthlessly was my breaking point. My hips faltered, and I let out a string of broken curses before stilling. He let out a fragile moan as load after load of cum filled the condom within him, a searing heat pumping through my veins like kerosene.

      With a deep, heavy groan, I released his neck, thrusts shallow as he sucked in deep lungfuls of air. I fisted his neglected cock and jerked him off with a tightly-wound fist. As oxygen filled his veins, he quickly surged to his high, pulsating in my hand and cumming for the third time with a ragged, almost silent moan. A pathetic splatter of cum hit his stomach, barely a few meek drops, before he sagged against the blanket in an unmoving heap.

      "Holy fucking shit," I panted, sitting back on my heels and resting my head back. A satisfying hum vibrated through my skull, nerves thrumming with euphoria. It was a feeling I wanted to cling to, never allowing it to end.

      I looked down at Levi. His eyelids were fluttering, as if in a parallel state between this world and another.

      All I could do was smile at him, all he could do was weakly return it, and I knew he was okay.

      A faint, almost inaudible meow sounded behind us, buried beneath our heavy breathing. I laughed at the absurdity of Midnight having been in the room the entire time.

      "She's traumatized for life," Levi rasped, his voice a dry husk in his throat.

      "I think she'll get used to it," I teased, looking up at my bedside table to see a water bottle.

      On legs I didn't want to admit were slightly shaking, I pulled out of him and stood up. His knees fell together as his legs slumped in exhaustion. I grabbed the water bottle before kneeling down next to him, uncapping it and lifting it to his willing lips. Water trickled into his mouth and down his throat, bobbing with grateful swallows before I pulled it away.

      Setting it next to his hand in case he needed more, I stood up and went to the bathroom. After discarding the condom, I grabbed a clean washcloth from the shelf and ran the water until it turned warm, dampening the rag before returning to him.

      He watched me with eyes I would have sworn were closed if it hadn't been for the lamplight catching on the silver of his irises. I wiped him clean of any cum on his stomach and chest, finding the dried streaks on his thighs that I ran the cloth over as well. 

      "After-care wasn't in your presentation. You're lucky I taught myself how to do this properly," I told him, eyeing him with a curious stare.

      His face was mostly blank—I couldn't tell exactly what he thought of my little comment. But soon, he rasped, "taught yourself?"

      "Yeah. I wanted to do everything right, so I did some research to make sure I wouldn't be an idiot," I told him with a lopsided grin.

      He stared at me for a moment, almost as if in awe, before any trace of it left and he let out a weak scoff. "Please, you're always an idiot," he said with a tiny smile.

      I chose to ignore how surprised he had looked. "An idiot that just made you cum three times," I gloated, standing up with the soiled rag and tossing it in my hamper.

      "Of course you counted," I barely heard from behind me, the amusement in his tone clear despite how quiet his voice was.

      "Hell yeah I counted. And I'm damn proud of my result." I leaned down and tucked my arms under his legs and shoulders, picking him up and settling him onto the bed.

      "Briefs, please; they're in my bag," he said, curling himself into the comforter. I retrieved them and handed them over before putting on my own and joining him on the bed.

      We tucked ourselves under the covers, and I pulled him against my chest with a deep, relieved sigh. Sensing we had finally settled in, Midnight hopped onto the bed and curled up by Levi’s side. He reached his hand behind himself to gently stroke her spine.

      "How would you rate my performance?" I asked, smirking despite him unable to see it.

      He hummed, pressing his head further against my skin and moving his hand to my chest. "A-plus, with some extra credit to top it off," he said tiredly.

      "I've always been an excellent student," I joked, pulling him closer and kissing his forehead. "You were beyond perfect. Happy Birthday, Levi," I said quietly.

      "Merry Christmas, Eren," he whispered. "Thank you."

Chapter Text

That Wasn’t What I Wanted to Hear

༄༄࿐

      "You fucking liar! I should have known, I should have known!" a muffled voice yelled, pouring out its rage as it boomed off the walls.

      "Please, just calm down," another voice said, calmer, yet weighed with foreboding terror.

      "Shut the FUCK UP!" the other yelled.

      A glint of light caught on a barrel and a trembling hand embodied by despair were all that existed between them.

      "It's all your fault!" the voice added, broken in his throat.

       Shadows climbed the walls like gnarled hands, reaching out, pulling them in by the skins of their necks. 

      A glimpse of silver, fleeting, desperate, gone within the moment another breath was taken.

      It's all your fault, it's all your fault.

      If only you had done more.

      "Eren!" A familiar voice, such a distant echo in his head. He wanted to reach for it, let it embrace him with its warmth.

      Instead, cold realization met him.

      Before he knew it, the barrel shot back, and with it a deafening pop rang through the air. A bullet went through his skull, blood splattering the hallway floor. The world went silent as his twisted body seized, and a sudden heavenly light blinded him from above.

..

      I barely heard myself yelling at the top of my lungs. I barely registered I was even still alive as I flew out of a bed and onto the floor. "FUCK!" I ended my shouting with. It was quickly replaced with heavy, ragged breathing. I desperately clawed at my hair, feeling at my head where a bullet should absolutely be. The sounds of items flying off a shelf were distant, and somewhere in my peripheral I caught the glimpse of a poster falling to the floor.

      My name being called soon sounded from somewhere behind me, muffled by my heaving breaths while I scrambled to my feet.

      "Holy fuck, holy fuck," I panted, lightheaded to the point of feeling faint as I stumbled to brace myself on my desk.

      "Eren!" I heard again, louder this time. The fuzz around my eyes finally begun to subside, the haze in the familiar bright room starting to clear. My bedroom. I was alive in my bedroom.

      I jerked my head to my left. Levi was standing about a foot away from me, hands reached out and eyes wide as they frantically searched me. "What?" I breathed in confusion, my own hand flying to my heart, where my chest rapidly rose and fell.

      He gawked at me. "What do you mean 'what?' I just woke up to you screaming on the floor! Are you okay?!" 

      I dropped my gaze from his to the floor beneath my bare feet. "I just... died. I just died." It was all I could mutter as I felt over my forehead again. Smooth, unbroken skin, skull still in tact. It didn't make any sense.

      "No, Eren, you're right here. You're safe." A hand was suddenly placed on my shoulder, and I flinched before I could realize. Instead of pulling away, Levi squeezed me tighter, and I moved to place an unstable hand over his, fighting to ground myself.

      "I swear, I–I just... fuck. I got shot in the head. It felt so fucking real. What the fuck." I looked up at Levi, whose expression settled with realization. Then I looked around my room. Midnight was nowhere to be found, most likely hiding in fear. My heart leapt to my throat at the sight of several Funko Pops on the floor, my crinkled Pierce The Veil poster lying pathetically beside them. I hadn't knocked them down. My powers had acted out.

      Reality finally sunk in. It was another dream. I had just woken up from a dream where I was shot and killed.

      Had Levi seen the Telekinetic reaction? If he had, he didn't make it known, continuing to reassure me. "You're okay. You haven't been shot. You're alive and breathing. See?" He moved our hands to my chest, pressing my palm over the rapid heartbeat, and taking a moment to focus on my trembling breaths that filled the air.

      "Come on, let's get back into bed," he soon added, voice calm and level. I followed him on autopilot until we settled onto the mattress, heads resting back on my pillows. The sun was up, but it wasn't what made the room so bright. Light reflected off the thick white snow that blanketed the roofs outside, flakes continuing to fall in a slow, irregular pattern. Right. It was still Christmas morning.

      It was as if looking through my window finally allowed the reality of the situation to sink in. Shame and embarrassment flooded me and I brought my hands to my eyes. "Oh my god, you probably think I'm actually insane," I said, dragging my hands down my face.

      Levi propped himself on his elbow, looking down at me while he gently stroked my arm. "You're not insane for having a nightmare, Eren. Does this happen often?" Eyebrows creased with concern, he searched the part of my face he could see.

      I shook my head, pulling my hands away and letting them fall on my stomach. "I've been having these freaky dreams lately that end with a gunshot, usually I barely know what's going on, but I've never had one like that until now. I felt the bullet hit my head, and it was like I actually saw my soul leaving my body—but I couldn't see any other faces." Recalling the otherworldly sensation sent shudders down my spine all over again.

      He continued to rub my arm, eyes cast with an empathic veil. "Repetitive nightmares where you're in danger. You must be stressed about something," he said matter-of-factly.

      "Maybe..." I muttered, but for some reason that didn't sit right with my gut.

      Midnight finally crawled out from where she was hiding—under my dresser. She slowly paced toward us, as if afraid I'd flip my shit again, before jumping onto the bed and sniffing at the comforter.

      I relaxed back against the pillows and shut my eyes, my muscles finally realizing there wasn't a reason to be so tense. Levi lay silently beside me, but I could feel his stare lingering on my skin. Swallowing, I tried to get ahold of my anxious heartbeat. If he had seen my Funko Pops fly off the shelf on their own, he would have said something, right?

      Absolutely. No one keeps something like that to themselves. There's no way he saw anything.

      "So when you woke up I was just on the floor? It's all kind of a blur," I asked just for good measure, opening my eyes to look at him. Midnight had crawled into the space between us, her paws tucked beneath her.

      He searched my expression before just barely nodding. "Yeah. It took me a second to realize what was going on while you were screaming, but when I did you were already on the floor," he explained.

       For the first time in weeks, as fear and doubt dug their nails beneath my skin, I had the urge to read his mind to find out if he was lying.

      But I knew myself well enough that if I cracked that dam, I wouldn't be able to stop until it broke.

      Attempting to let the information bring me some semblance of relief instead, I hummed. "I should probably clean this mess up, you can keep laying down" I said, gesturing to the poster and figures before beginning to sit up.

      "Wait, Eren." I paused as Levi gripped my arm, turning to look at him.

      "Sometimes stress dreams can be prevented if you talk about a potential cause behind them. Is there anything that's been bothering you? Anything you want to... get off your chest?"

      I searched his expression. There wasn't eagerness there, not even suspicion, just a blank slate with a hint of concern.

      There's no way he had seen anything.

      "No. Nothing's really been bothering me," I muttered. He remained momentarily silent before slightly nodding his head, the movement jerky and quick.

      I left the bed, finally noticing the air that nipped at my exposed skin, a faint chill lying just on the verge of uncomfortable. I picked up the soiled blanket from the floor, feeling embers of joy finally spark to life—as one should on Christmas morning—met with memories of the night before.

      "This was fun." I shook the blanket in the air a bit, looking at him over my shoulder with a smirk. He was sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest, cheek resting on his knees as he watched me. Midnight was brushing up against his side.

      The tiniest of smiles graced him. "Very," he said quietly, a faint rasp still lingering in his voice that I had no doubt was a remnant of last night.

      After throwing it in the hamper, which was nearly full now, I begun picking up my Funko Pops and putting them back on the shelf. "Man, I must've been really flailing around to have knocked these down, huh?" I said, glancing back at him fleetingly.

      "Yeah. Must have been," he said quietly, arms still curled around his shins.

       After swallowing, I sucked in a sharp breath, before crumpling my worn Pierce The Veil poster and tossing it into my trashcan. "You don't want that?" he asked from behind me.

      "Nah, it's really old, and I don't really listen to them like that anymore," I said, and he hummed.

      I glanced at my alarm clock. It was just past nine in the morning. "We might wanna get downstairs soon, everyone is probably up and waiting for us—but we can do whatever you want, it's your birthday," I quickly added.

      He glanced at Midnight for a moment before looking back up at me. "It's alright, we can head down there. But I want to get her home soon." He ran his hand along her spine as she purred.

      It would be odd not having her held up in my room anymore, waking up to her loafing on my head, but I was not cut out for owning a cat. That was all Levi.

      He insisted we both showered before heading downstairs, shivering at the feeling of dried sweat on his body and the lingering whiff of cum in the air—even though it was probably from the discarded blanket.

      "We could save time by showering together," he said, eyeing me suggestively as we lingered by the bathroom doorway. He lifted a hand, and in it was a packaged condom I hadn't even realized he grabbed.

      "You're gonna be the death of me, aren't you?" I said with a smirk, sliding my hand up his waist and thumbing at the skin under his ribs.

      "I'm planning on it." He slid his lip between his teeth and ran his fingers over my pecs.

      It didn't take much more convincing after that, especially considering it would be the perfect distraction after that dream. Before long, I had him in the exact position I once fantasized about, shoved against the shower wall while I fucked him from behind. The only difference was I had a firm hand wrapped around his throat, keeping his wrecked moans strangled by my grip.

      The sensation of water cascading down my back paired with the suffocating heat of thrusting into him was better than anything I could have imagined. Despite being thoroughly ruined last night, he took it like he had waited years just to have my cock inside of him all over again, desperately sucking me in.

       He held my wrist in an unwavering grip. One tap. I squeezed his throat tighter, groaning when I dropped my head to stare at the space between our bodies. My soaked hair swayed on either side of my head as I drank in the way my cock disappeared inside of him, jaw hanging open on ragged pants.

      He arched his back, shoving his ass against my hips, taking in more of me, taking me deeper. I pulled my hand back and slapped his cheek, the sound bouncing across the shower tiles. Even with my hand around his neck, his heavy moans just barely climbed through and threatened to drive me crazy.

      The sounds of my hips colliding with his ass were obscene, water trapped between our bodies and sloshing with each violent clap of our skin.

      It didn't take him long for him to spasm in my hold, feeling him tremble beneath my claw-like grip on his hip as he came untouched. He painted the shower wall with a high whine as I released some of the pressure around his neck, and with a few more deep, rough thrusts, I tumbled with him into a mind-blowing orgasm.

      My eyes rolled back with a ragged groan, cum filling the condom deep within him. The steam that filled the shower prevented me from taking in lungfuls of air. The corners of my vision began to darken, and I pulled out of him to rip the shower curtain open and stumble out, moments from passing out onto the floor.

      Levi slumped against the shower wall, as I caught my breath. "Fuck," I muttered, my skin tingling with remnants of euphoria as oxygen filled my brain.

      Once I felt like my cause of death wasn't going to be fucking too hard, I pulled off my condom and tossed it into the trashcan, returning to the shower. I hummed, peeling Levi off the tiled wall and pulling him against me, washing the cum off his body. I curled my arms around his waist and rested my chin on his head, letting the water wash over us.

      "I'm surprised we still have hot water," I said with a chuckle, letting him go and turning to grab my body wash.

      I felt fingers brush against my shoulder blade, and goosebumps trailed a path up my neck. "You told me you'd give me a better look at your tattoo today..." he trailed off, stepping up behind me.

      I looked at him over my shoulder. He was running the pads of his fingers over the ink, analyzing it with a profound gaze. "Oh, yeah," I muttered.

      "Tell me about it," he said softly, voice barely carrying over the spraying water.

      "What do you want to know?" I asked. He brushed my hair to one side of my shoulder, nails gently caressing my neck.

      "A locked chain wrapping around a skull. Very symbolic. What does it mean to you?" he elaborated. I turned ahead, staring at the adjacent shower wall.

      "I've always kind of felt trapped in my own head, ever since I was a kid. I had no idea what I was getting when I went to the shop, but I saw this design on the artist's wall and immediately resonated with it," I explained.

      He hummed. "It's very poetic. I think it's great that you found a piece of art you can connect to. Why do you sound uncomfortable when you talk about it?" I nearly huffed a laugh. Always the perceptive one. Leave it to him to notice whenever something was even remotely wrong.

      Levi had no idea about Mikasa and Armin. After all, what was the point of talking about them? They were in the past—something I longed to forget.

      "I got it with someone who isn't in my life anymore. She got one with me, but they aren't matching or anything. Thinking about it just reminds me of that time in my life," I explained, trying to ignore the way the strength in my voice was slipping.

      He was momentarily silent, and I turned to see a frown etched onto his features. "Was she more than just a friend?" he asked.

      I couldn't have shook my head any quicker. "No, no. It was nothing like that. Just... really good friends." A chill ran up my spine. I clenched my eyes shut and shrugged my shoulders in, trying to rid myself of unwelcome memories. "I don't want to talk about it," I added.

      "You mentioned an old friend group once..." he muttered, and my expression pinched with an irked grimace.

      "Levi, I said I don't want to talk about it," I said firmly.

      I immediately assumed I had hurt his feelings by snapping, as he was rendered silent, and I wanted to slam my head into the wall for being so fucking stupid.

      But a hand soon wrapped around my arm, and I was turned around to face Levi's calm, lidded eyes. Dark lashes caught glistening drops of water, which fell onto his porcelain cheeks and ran jagged paths to his chin. How was it possible he looked so ethereal even with his hair weighed down on his head?

      "When we attach a part of ourselves to a time in history, we never allow that part a chance to grow with the rest of us" he began. I frowned, and he tucked behind my ear a wet lock of my hair that had fallen over my face. "You're not defined by anyone who has hurt you."

      I hadn't even told him any of the details, he had no idea what the story was, yet somehow, he knew.

      "Yeah," I said quietly. He tilted his head, dark, wet hair framing his face perfectly, and I set the bottle of soap down. I cupped both sides of his head, leaning down and kissing him, hoping my lips would express the words that failed to come.

༄༄࿐

      After finally tearing ourselves away from the steadily cooling shower and getting dressed, we finally headed downstairs. We left Midnight in my room, much to Levi's dismay—he still couldn't believe my mom's distaste for cats. Everyone was in the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee made, but my mom's usual cup of green tea sitting on the island. Oma and Opa still eyed Levi like he was an amoeba, but I could tell he was trying to ignore their looks as much as I was.

      "There you boys are. What was all that screaming about earlier? I thought one of you was being murdered," Mom said from the stove.

      Her comment reminded me of the dream again, and a sinking feeling weighed down my chest.

      "Nice of you to check up on us if you thought we were dying," I teased, brushing off my discomfort.

      She scoffed. "I'm sure the news would have reached me eventually. You're going to throw off your schedule—take your medication, it's already out." She nodded toward the three orange bottles on the island.

      I wiggled my eyebrows at Levi. "My morning snack," I said, and he rolled his eyes with a small amused smile.

      After taking the pills, my mom migrated everyone to the dining room for a late breakfast, claiming she was waiting for us to wake up before serving it. The fact that she had given Levi and I privacy to start our day was oddly patient of her. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit or something.

      "Oh—and, Happy Birthday, Levi," she said before we began to eat. My dad and grandparents also wished him a happy birthday after realizing, and I squeezed his hand under the table.

      Presents came after breakfast, all of us settling into the living room in the same positions we had taken the night before. I felt guilty that Levi had to sit there and watch my family and I open stuff from each other, but I tried to remember Midnight and the many cat supplies upstairs waiting for him to take home, and he didn't seem to mind watching as he nestled his own cup of tea my mom had offered in his hands.

      He had also insisted his gift be the final one I opened. My last-minute gifts to my mom and dad were a crotchet pattern book and a personalized leather bookmark with the initials G.J. on it. You could probably guess which gift went to who.

      I was forced to get presents for my grandparents, so I got Oma a small glass-stained robin, since she apparently liked little bird-themed knick-knacks, and I also got Opa a personalized bookmark. I tried to ignore the look my mom gave me when he opened it, but he seemed happy enough.

      I got a new Playstation 5 controller from my dad, which shocked me. "Wow, thank you," I told him sincerely, ogling the sleek black and white design with an RGB pattern. He nodded with his hands folded over his lap and a small smile.

      I opened the first gift from my mom, but paused when I realized it was a doorknob. "Um..." I muttered. Levi looked over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "What does this mean?" I asked with a snort.

      "It's your new bedroom doorknob. You're getting your lock back—your bathroom one, too. Your father is installing them both later today," she explained with a soft smile.

     My eyebrows flew up on my head, mouth falling open. "Well—that's a good way to announce to everyone that I don't have a lock on my door, but, holy crap, thank you," I said with a chuckle. I was honestly surprised. I thought I wouldn't have a lock on my door again until I moved into my own place.

      "You don't have a lock?" Levi harshly whispered beside me. I nudged him with a snort, hurriedly shushing him.

      "I do now," I whispered, and he slapped my arm. I laughed before lifting the box in my hands.

      "Seriously, thank you," I said. My mom's eyes moved between Levi and I with a knowing look before she shook her head.

      I also got a Spider-Man themed Switch case and a Venom figure from her, which made me geek out only slightly. From Oma I got a new sweater and beanie—a tradition of hers, and from Opa I got a book titled Atomic Habits. How I knew they didn't visit enough was Opa had no idea I haven't picked up a book by my own volition in over a decade, but Levi gracefully asked to take it from my hands and looked it over.

      I opened an envelope my mom's parents mailed in—a check for one-hundred dollars. I nodded with a pleased hum, tucking the card with everything else.

      Finally, it was time to open Levi's gift. He watched me in anticipation as I lifted the tissue paper from the small bag, revealing an envelope resting at the bottom.

      "You know, I bet this bag was like—four dollars, when you could have just given me the envelope," I teased with a smirk.

      He scoffed. "It was two dollars, and I take my gifting seriously, thank you very much," he replied.

      I grinned as my parents chuckled, tearing the envelope open. I lifted a card out, looking over the front which had a snowman who had moved his carrot nose to where his dick would be, saying, "It's still my nose, trust me." I huffed a laugh at its stupidity before opening the card.

      On the left was a small cursive note that read,

'Merry Christmas, Mr. Not Impulsive.

– Mr. Not Presumptuous'

      My heart warmed at the callback before I looked at what was tucked inside of it. It took me a second to realize what the hell I was looking at. Two thin slips of paper—a specific kind of paper that only meant one thing. Tickets.

      Not just any tickets, however. Concert tickets. My heart leapt to my throat.

      I carefully picked one up before reading over it. My jaw dropped, eyes blowing wide open. "No fucking way," I whispered to myself first. "You're kidding. Holy shit! No fucking way!" I shouted.

      "Language, Eren!" my mom berated, but I could hardly care as I bounced on the couch cushion.

      "Fucking $uicideBoy$ tickets? Are you kidding me right now?" I exclaimed, looking at Levi with wild eyes.

      Having bitten his lip on a smile, he nodded. "Good seats, too. But it's in February, so we'll have to wait a little bit," he explained.

      I shook him by his shoulder. "It could be in twenty years and I would still be going crazy. Oh my god, how?" I bounced my leg, combing my hair back with an excited hand.

      "What is this? The what boys?" Oma asked loudly from the other side of the couch.

      "It's a band he likes. They make very particular music," Mom explained to her. I tucked the tickets back into the card and practically crushed Levi with a hug, kissing him on his forehead.

      "These had to have been insanely expensive," I said once I pulled away.

      "I pulled a few strings with my uncle," he said with a nonchalant shrug, as if he hadn't just changed the course of my entire first semester.

      "You're the fucking best." I grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into me. 

      "I try," he said quietly, but his tone gave away how pleased he really was.

      Everyone else unwrapped their remaining presents, enjoying themselves as I practically buzzed with excitement. If it weren't for the medication keeping me at bay, I would probably be bouncing off the walls.

      We slowly filtered out of the living room, my mom announcing she was making a large batch of hot cocoa. Even after the incident this morning, which was way too to close to ruining everything I'd fought so hard to keep, it seemed like it was going to be okay.

      Now, usually when I thought that it was moments before my own demise, so I opted to not even bother. But lately, despite my doubt, things have remained pretty steady. All I could hope was that it'd stay that way.

༄༄࿐

      The rest of winter break was a breeze—for the most part. After Levi brought Midnight home and Kenny kind of flipped his shit, he returned to giving me the silent-cold treatment I had only just begun to escape. But even he was slowly getting used to her, accepting that he was wrong about TenSoon, who was often found lying beside Midnight—like a bear cuddling up to a mouse.

      I still had those fucked up dreams on occasion—though, luckily, not another one where I had been killed. I had begun to forget what being shot in the head felt like as the following weeks passed. In the back of my mind I continued to wonder what the dreams meant, but it was easy to let the curiosity slip away once I started my day.

      Levi had steadily grown more comfortable around my parents and was over more often, and in turn they had learned to warm up to his presence. It was obvious they still had their reservations, but they had realized I had no intention on giving up, so they were forced to accept it for what it was.

      And god—Levi and I had sex practically every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. There was one week where we literally fucked twelve times—yes, I counted. I thought I would get tired of it after a while, but nothing could ever compare to what it was like being with him. It was as if I couldn't get enough of his touch, and with his insanely high sex drive, sometimes at the most random of times—I wasn’t ashamed to admit there had been a couple of unprecedented work visits from him—we were more than happy to indulge each other like rabbits on aphrodisiacs.

      It was exciting, invigorating, empowering. I was constantly reminded of how alive and in control he made me feel.

      When we weren't fucking, or I wasn’t working, most days consisted of us simply enjoying each other's company, be it me dragging him somewhere in the city in twenty-degree weather, or him convincing me to stay tucked in bed where it was warm. Then, one morning, a couple of weeks before the semester began, I got a random text from an unknown number.

Yo

who is thus

this*

Jean

how did u get my number

I asked Connie who asked Sasha who asked some random girl who asked Levi

thats kinda freaky but alr

why didn't u just ask levi

Why would I have ur bfs number

ok good answer

what's up

I jus wanted to know if you wanted to play ball at the Rec sometime before we go back to school

It's chill if not

ya sure im down

Ok cool I can come pick you up this week whenever just lmk

      The whole interaction was so random, but I wasn't necessarily against it. I just wasn't expecting for Jean to hunt me down over break. I guess he really needed the company—I can't imagine being at home all the time and dealing with what he went through.

      I texted Levi after Jean and I planned on a day.

u gave someone my number for jean lol?

It'll be good to talk to someone in your life other than me.

so u hate me

Yeah Eren that's exactly what that means.

i knew it

༄༄࿐

      Jean and I played basketball a few times before the semester began. Sometimes Levi tagged along, bundled up in several layers and a large jacket. He looked adorable with his red flushed nose amid the January weather.

      He rarely ever played, but occasionally Jean and I would pressure him into shooting a few times. That quickly came to a stop when he made a dent in the shooting square from basically throwing the ball instead of tossing it. He refused to ever try again, and we wholeheartedly agreed. I guess it made sense that he wasn't good at every sport. His freak strength continued to amuse me, though, as much as it shocked others.

      Jean was still often texting on his phone—every now and then a weirdly shy smile would appear on his face. Levi was convinced he was talking to someone romantically after only the couple of times he had come to watch us, but I couldn't care less what he was doing.

      The week of the first semester seemed to arrive way too quickly, and before I knew it, we were back at Sina. Returning was made easier by the anticipation of the concert—which was only a month away.

      "So, you're coming to the Winter Dance with me, right?" I asked Levi, leaning against the locker beside his as he grabbed his economics book.

      "Hmm, I don't know, I have to check my schedule," he said, tapping his chin with a serious furrow between his eyes.

      I grinned. "What, your schedule of picking flowers and writing poetry?" I teased. 

      He raised an eyebrow, shutting his locker. "Any more comments like that and you'll have to find yourself another date to the dance," he said.

      I chuckled, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in to kiss his forehead. We departed just as the bell rang, dragging myself to the cafeteria room as he headed in the opposite direction toward his next class.

      The first week of school had been going well up until Wednesday morning. Farlan—his name was like a curse on my tongue—had started showing up at Levi's locker again, walking with him to the classes they shared. On one occasion, they were already leaving by the time I was in the hall, and I had to turn on my heel in embarrassment.

      God, I wanted to rip his pretty teeth right out of his fucking mouth. 

      It wasn't enough that whenever I did show up, Levi divided me his full attention. It was the fact that there was someone else who was trying to gain it—to take it from me.

      I don't get what Levi saw in him to think he was worth befriending. He was a rude piece of shit—acting like I wasn't even there when I was around. But Levi insisted that wasn't the case, and it just took him some time to warm up to new people.

      Then why the fuck wouldn't he even look at me? I'm pretty sure it would be difficult to warm up to someone when you pretended they didn't even exist.

༄༄࿐

      "I don't know what to do," I told Jean as I tossed him the basketball after school Thursday afternoon. I needed to talk to someone about the situation that might get it—my dad was off the table and I refused to ask my mom for relationship advice. So, with no other option, I turned to Jean during a game.

      "Don't be a pussy. Ask Farlan what his problem is," he said before tossing the ball into the net.

      I rolled my eyes—of course he would say something like that. "I can't do that. He's Levi's friend. The second I say something it's gonna get back to him, and then I'm gonna get shit for it," I explained. Come on, wasnt that obvious?

      He shrugged, bouncing the ball. "Just saying, sounds like something a pussy would say." His sing-songy, mocking tone did absolutely nothing to quell my frustration.

      "Fuck it, just forget it. Remind me to never ask for your opinion ever again," I spat.

      He blew an amused raspberry, tossing me the ball. I glared at him as I grabbed it, holding it to my chest.

      He eyed me up and down before leaning his weight on one leg. "This really has you fucked up, huh?" he asked, one of his dark eyebrows quirked.

      I frowned, remaining silent as I dropped my eyes to the blacktop at my feet. He sighed at my lack of response. "Fine. You wanna know what I think? I think it's suspicious that Farlan treats you like you're not there when he's around. If you really wanna know what his intentions are without Levi finding out, follow them around. Try to catch Farlan alone with him and see how he acts."

      My eyes went wide, and I paused for a moment as I let the suggestion sink in."So like... stalk them?" I asked, resting the ball between my arm and my hip.

      "Well, you're the one who wants to make it weird, but, sure," he replied, holding his hands up beside him.

      "I mean, that's literally what it is," I said, blinking at him.

      He leaned his head back, exasperated. "Look. Do you trust Levi?" he asked, planting his hand in the air.

      I looked to the side. Did I trust him? He's been cheated on before, he knows what that kind of pain is like. He's never showed even a sign of being interested in Farlan, and anytime the two of us were around at the same time, his eyes were on me. He's always been unnaturally honest with me—and has never given me a reason to doubt his loyalty.

      "Yeah, I do," I answered, bringing the ball to my hands and bouncing it more confidently.

      He nodded matter-of-factly, gesturing to me. "Then there you go. I'm sure you won't find out anything you don't want to," he said.

      "Thanks, man," I said, bending my knees and tossing the ball into the hoop. I Telekinetically altered it to fall into the net, albeit sloppily, and Jean caught it after it bounced off of the ground.

      Instead of taking a shot himself, he tossed it back to me and pulled out his phone, following his usual pattern of beginning to text with a sudden focus he rarey showed in anything else.

      "Who are you talking to?" I asked, peering down at his phone despite not having a chance of seeing anything from here.

      I know I said I couldn't care less, but my curiosity was finally getting the best of me. Was Levi onto something about Jean potentially talking to someone? I couldn't even imagine Jean being romantic—but after he'd asked me for sexuality advice one of the first times we played together, maybe he really was interested in someone.

      He glanced up at me, eyebrows drawn together. "None of your business," he mumbled. I rolled my eyes before running them over his unguarded stance. A smirk lifted my lips before I tossed the ball at him. It bounced across the blacktop, and he barely looked up in time before it hit his side, nearly knocking his phone out of his hands.

      After watching him scramble to keep ahold of it, I snickered, and he shot a nasty glower at me before pocketing his phone. "Fuck you," he spat, jogging for the ball as it dribbled away.

༄༄࿐

      It was easy to work up the nerve to act out Jean's plan the next day. I had followed Levi to lunch before—the only difference was, I hadn't had malicious intent. Not at first, at least. We can ignore the little slip-up with Farlan's food tray. I couldn't let anything like that happen again, especially since the nightmare where my powers acted out.

      First, I intentionally waited before heading to Levi's locker before second period. He had assumed I would head straight to my locker since I had said goodbye after Mr. Hannes' class. There was a bathroom near his block, so I dipped inside of it before barely tilting my head out into the hall.

      I probably looked insane, but I tried to ignore the few odd stares I got from students passing by. No one bothered me since they were already heading to class, which meant I had all the time in the world to watch as Levi closed his locker and turned to Farlan with his history books tucked in his arms. He looked so fucking cute drowning in his oversized shirt and blue sweater vest. Farlan didn't deserve to constantly get such a good look at him.

      Farlan kept his hands tucked in his pockets as they begun to head to class, but his head was turned toward Levi, looking down at him with one of his idiotic smiles. Once they neared the end of the hall, I darted out of the bathroom and blended in with the rest of the trickling students.

      After they turned the corner, I picked up the pace, weaving through students as the final bell rang through the hall. I paused just at the end of the wall, hesitating before peaking my head around the corner.

      Levi was facing forward, but Farlan nudged him with his shoulder and let out this weird, horse-like laugh. I drew my eyebrows together, eyeing Farlan's loose body language. He's way too fucking comfortable around him.

      When they arrived at Mr. Hoverman's class, Farlan reached forward and opened the door for him. I watched with a tight jaw as Levi went inside before Farlan followed, the door falling closed behind them. 

      Rolling my eyes with a dejected sigh, I turned and jogged back the way I came, forcing myself to Ms. Ceelio's class before I would be marked absent. So far, I couldn't really be that upset about anything that had happened, yet it still pissed me off to no end.

      This was going to be harder than I thought.

༄༄࿐

    The second time I was able to follow Levi was after his lunch period. I was surprised to find out that he had a free period following, and I had to ensure I was even more cautious as he traversed the halls with Farlan and two other friends I recognized from the cafeteria, bundled in thick coats. Hiding in the bathroom again, I waited several seconds after they passed before slipping out and tiptoeing my way toward the doors they left through. Luckily the hallway was empty, so I was able to watch them without fear of being caught.

      They ended up gathering near the front of the school, and I peaked my head out to look through the window in the door, which separated the hall from the courtyard. Levi and the two others—a blonde girl and someone dark-haired who looked too androgynous to tell—settled on a couple of benches outside, while Farlan sat on the floor by Levi's feet.

      His legs were pulled up, arms swung over his knees as he watched Levi pull out his notebook. I recognized it—it was the one he wrote his poems in. Levi brought his feet up until he sat criss-crossed on the bench, tucking the poetry book on his lap. He glanced at Farlan for a moment as he said something before flipping open the page and clicking his mechanical pencil.

      The blonde girl begun to talk to Farlan as Levi started writing, the familiar pinch of concentration cast over his porcelain features. My heart fluttered in my chest as I imagined him writing, wondering what he was writing about—if he ever really wrote about me the way he liked to joke he did.

      Then, the flutter in my heart soured and died until a bitter possibility replaced it. What if he wrote about Farlan? What if he poured his heart out about feeling torn between two people, not knowing who to choose? What if he wrote about his stupid messy hair and his crooked smile?

      I licked my lips, swallowing down the sudden lump in my throat. It refused to slide down my clogged chest, weighed by a sickening paranoia.

     Levi paused, reading over what he'd written. Then, Farlan said something to him. I couldn't make it out, but Levi looked at him for a moment before he set his pencil down, grabbed both sides of his opened notebook, and gracefully handed it to Farlan.

      He happily took it, pulling it to rest on his knees before beginning to read over the page. I tightly pursed my lips when I realized Farlan was reading the poem he had written. His eyes were focused, but soon, a small smile lifted his mouth, and he handed Levi the notebook back with a pat to his leg and an excited comment I couldn't decipher.

      I felt my blood boil, fingers wrung tightly on either side of me and nerves struck with the overwhelming sensation of anger. Fuck. Fuck. Get yourself together. 

      I recognized the shifting pattern of my breathing, the way it begun to derail. Farlan was grinning up at him, spewing words that had Levi's eyes honed on him instead of his notebook. I couldn't stop the fear in my gut from curling into a ball of rage.

      I tried to reel myself in, turning to Doctor Clark's coping mechanism using the senses. The sound of a stream in a quiet forest. A distant waterfall. Twittering birds. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

      I couldn't tear my eyes away from them; I couldn't calm down. I knew where my emotions were headed—I knew I should have turned around while I still had the chance, and yet, it happened before I could stop myself. As I looked at Farlan, I felt a familiar vibration wash against my skull, activating my Telekinesis. He brought his hand up to his head, suddenly wincing. Levi's mouth read the words, 'are you okay?' and it only fanned the flames.

      I had no idea what I was doing, but a sickening sense of anticipation only drove me to push the boundary of risk even further.

      As if it was instinctual, I looked down at his pelvis. I had no idea why.

      But the last thing I was expecting was for a sudden wet patch to develop around the space between his legs.

      His eyes blew wide as he threw his legs together, a hand reaching under his thighs to feel at his pants. He rushed to his feet, back turned to the others, and the wet spot only grew. Levi and their two friends stared at him oddly, asking him what he was doing. That's when Levi's gaze darted to the space between his thighs, and his silver eyes widened in near horror.

      My jaw fell open as I realized what was happening, and I ducked from the window when Farlan suddenly darted from the benches and made a beeline for the outdoor bathrooms.

      Holy fucking shit. I just made Farlan piss himself.

      I threw a fist over my mouth, pursing my lips on a smile I absolutely shouldn't be having right now. Holy fuck. I actually made him piss himself. Even now, after all these years, my powers continued to catch me off guard, proving what new abilities they were capable of that I hadn't even imagined.

      I leaned against the wall, a hand over my chest as I forced myself to remain composed. Levi and the others were still out there, but none of them had gone after Farlan, and that sole fact filled me with morbid satisfaction.

      After taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the wall and quietly made my way to class. I was late to practically all of them today, but it was only the beginning of the semester, so I wasn't worried.

      I spent the walk dwelling over what had happened, wondering how it had even been possible. I looked at his pelvis—did I Telekinetically push on his bladder? Did I trigger something in his brain Telepathically that forced his body to start pissing against his will?

      I finally allowed myself to laugh in the empty hallway. It was dry with disbelief. The idea was absurd, but either way, it had happened.

      And considering what had happened in the past when I had used my powers on others, that was one of the better outcomes.

      It was as if my brain knew exactly what I needed to cope with what I was feeling—and the exact thing that would both embarrass Farlan and gross Levi out. He was such a clean person, and he had obviously realized what had happened based on the look on his face. There's no doubt he'd be disgusted.

       Unfortunately, the initial serotonin boost faded throughout my next class, replaced by a sense of frustration and helplessness. Yeah, what had happened was amusing and honestly something straight out of a movie—but at the end of the day, what I had seen between them was engraved into my retinas.

      Sure, I haven't noticed anything romantic necessarily, but the fact remains, Farlan gets to spend more time with him during school hours than I ever will. They get to talk, share literature, poems, company. It was like an itch that couldn't be scratched, something that constantly bothered me, set me on edge.

      If only I could just read Farlan's mind, find out if he really did have any intentions with Levi and I wasn't just paranoid and insane. But he wouldn't even give me the time of day, let alone look at me.

      There's another mind you can read.

      Right. Levi's mind. I could find out about anything going on, any harbored feelings, if I just peered in—even for only a second.

      No. I can't. Ruining things was my specialty. I can't ruin everything I had built for myself by giving in after all this time. Reading his mind would only lead to disaster. I would find out everything about him that I didn't want to—everything that made us perfect would go down the drain.

      The only temporary solution I could think of was reminding myself that Levi was mine—that no matter who else he spent time with, there was one sole person he belonged to.

      I made a beeline for Levi's locker when fourth period was released. Farlan was nowhere to be found. Levi whipped his head around to look at me as I appeared behind him, an odd look in his eyes. "Hey. Where have you been?"

      I ignored him, shutting his locker behind him and grabbing his wrist. He looked down at my hand before blinking up at me. He barley opened his mouth before I begun pulling him toward the bathroom. "Eren, what the hell?" he muttered, trailing behind me until I strutted into the men's room and pushed him against the wall.

      He let out a faint gasp, eyes falling down to my lips as I leaned down before violently shoving them against his. He gripped the back of my shirt, nails digging into my skin and mouth desperately moving against mine.

      I grabbed his hips, sliding my fingers under his button-up and feeling his warm skin. I forced my tongue past his lips, ravishing him while I encased his entire body with my own.

      I lifted a knee and pressed it between his thighs. His head fell back, disconnecting our lips. He let out a heavy breath, brows pulling together. "What has gotten into you?" he quietly asked, but the need swimming in his eyes assured me he wasn't against this.

      "I missed you," I told him. It wasn't necessarily a lie, but I tried to mask the bitterness in my tone. I dipped down and moved my head to his neck, trailing a wet path down to his jugular before pressing my teeth into his skin. He released a shaky sigh, fingers climbing into my messy bun.

      "So you took me to the bathroom?" he asked through a breathless laugh, gasping when I sunk my teeth into his neck a little harder.

      Some guy walked in, though I didn't pay him any mind. "Ew," he muttered behind me before heading into a stall. His comment only flared the anger beneath my skin, and I sucked at his skin with more fervor. Levi didn't seem to give a shit about his comment, pressing his hips down onto my thigh and craning his head back.

      I pulled away, admiring the darkening blotches on his throat. They contrasted his skin like red jewels against a white sheet— screaming to whoever looked that he was off limits. I would litter him in hickies if I had the time. I was all for making a scene, but school property was a little tricky, so I held myself back until the kid left before I dragged Levi to the very last stall.

      Once I locked it behind us, I pulled his back flush against me, pressing my hips into his ass as I reached a hand around his front.

      "You're gonna make me—miss Mrs. Kurtz class, Eren," he whispered, my name laced with an airy moan as I palmed his erection that pushed against his loose pants. Mrs. Kurtz, being the teacher of his most beloved subject, was the one class he always ensured he was punctual to. But I didn't care. All I could focus on was the need to claim him that coursed through me.

      "Do you want me to stop?" I muttered against his ear, my voice a deep husk, my heavy breaths rolling over his skin.

      He trembled against me, lifting an arm to climb a hand up the back of my neck. Brutally biting his bottom lip, he remained silent for several seconds before shaking his head in a few rough jerks. "No," he whispered.

      I hummed with a wicked sense of satisfaction, rage and confidence, the need to take control, twisting to create an emboldened passion in my gut. It encouraged me to lift my hand, unbutton his pants, and pull his cock out. He gasped, the sound just barely echoing off the walls. "Shh," I breathed against his ear.

      I began languidly stroking him, intentionally taking the time to run my thumb over his tip, which was already dripping with precum. "You're already so turned on for me," I whispered, dragging the sticky fluid down the vein that ran through his throbbing cock. "It's so hot."

      "Eren, stop talking, stop talking," he muttered under his breath, words hurried and desperate.

       I frowned. "What, you don't want anyone to find out what I'm doing to you in here? Are you sure?" I teased, increasing the pace of my hand, gliding it over him with a firm grip.

      "You're so fucking..." his words tumbled to a shuddered breath, slightly arching his back and pushing his ass against me.

      "So fucking what? You want to finish that sentence?" I nudged him forward, taking careful steps across the short width of the stall until I was pressing him against the navy blue wall.

      "Eren, I don't have a condom on me—probably because I wasn't expecting you to drag me into the bathroom in the middle of school," he whispered harshly, dropping his head between his shoulders and pressing it against the wall of the stall.

      "We don't have to fuck," I replied. "There are other things we can do." I followed my words by dragging my hand over the hem of his unbuttoned pants, stretching the waistband before sliding it over his ass. He shivered as I used my arm to push them down, removing my other hand from his cock to lower them around his hips.

      "Remind me to start bringing some, though. Fucking you over the toilet sounds really fun," I said, admiring the way his ass cheeks slightly spilled over the waistband of his pants.

       "That's actually disgusting, Eren," Levi whispered, fingers curling over the wall he braced himself on.

      "Yet you would let me," I claimed, and his shameless lack of denial only swelled the sense of conviction in my chest.

      Restraint running thin, I lifted three fingers to my own mouth, not wanting him to complain any further, and lathered them in saliva. I brought them down to his ass, shoving his pants down enough to slip my fingers between his cheeks. I pressed against his hole until his muscles gave, parting for my index finger and slipping it inside of him.

      "You're still so damn tight even after all the times you've had my cock inside you," I muttered against his ear, hardly waiting long before I slid a second finger in to join the first.

      "Are you complaining about that?" he breathed, tilting his head against the stall with a strangled sigh.

      "The only thing I'm complaining about is not being able to fuck you right now." I steadily shoved my fingers in and out of his ass, watching intently as he brutally bit his bottom lip. His silver eyes fluttered back in his skull and his entire body fought to stay composed. Watching him fall apart was everything I needed. Knowing he had given me control, succumbed to something so crude and debauched just to allow me power over him—no one could have him like this but myself.

      "You're such a little slut, letting me finger you in the school bathroom like this," I growled in his ear, my own cock impossibly hard against my jeans. "You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?"

      He let out a near silent, trembling whine, the sound dying before it could echo across the tiles. I twisted my fingers, pushing them as far as they could go before feeling him jolt once I pressed them into his prostate. He shoved against the stall, creating a faint thump. My heart pounded with exhilaration at the idea of someone walking into the bathroom and noticing what we were doing behind the locked door.

      "Fuck, I could spend hours playing with your pretty hole, watching you go crazy," I whispered into his ear. His throat bobbed with a thick swallow, his attempts at remaining quiet seeming more strenuous with each second that passed.

      "Shit, Eren," he breathed, voice trembling. He constantly twitched and shook in my hold as I ruthlessly rubbed his prostate. I added a third finger, feeling the tight ring of muscle stretch around my skin. "I'm close," he whispered weakly.

      I moved my hand from his hip and returned it to his dripping cock. He let out a weak gasp as I fisted it, gathering the obscene amount of precum that had gathered at the tip and spreading it over his shaft.

      "Tissue, tissue," he desperately whispered, but I kept stroking his cock, simultaneously shoving my three fingers into his hole.

      "No. I have an idea," I replied. He let out a stream of harshly whispered curses, attempting to push against my chest, but only rocked back on my fingers even harder. It only took a few more strokes before he snapped, the effort to stay quiet escaping him in bursts as he smacked his hand against the wall.

      I lifted my hand to his tip and allowed the ropes of cum he released to paint my fingers and palm. He threw his head back against my shoulder, jaw fallen open as a series of desperate gasps inflated his lungs.

      By the time he came down from his high, he looked down at my hand in disgust. "What the hell, Eren?" he whispered. But instead of responding, I gripped his shoulder and guided him to stand in front of the toilet. I used my clean hand to push his pants down enough until they fell to his ankles. It would be so blatantly obvious what we were doing to anyone who came into the stall beside ours with his pants pooling at his feet, but instead of the idea filling me with embarrassment, it ignited me with a sense of pride and possession.

      "Spread your legs," I demanded, a fire in my gut, and he obeyed without question. I spread his own cum that coated my hand between the space of his thighs, sufficiently lubricating them until they were wet and slippery.

      He grimaced, lifting his shoulders and dropping his head between them. "What are you doing?" he asked in a shocked whisper.

      "Having some fun, too," I vaguely replied, pulling my cock out of my own jeans and spreading his cheeks. I slid between his cum-slicked thighs with a quiet groan, feeling the warm heat of his skin surround my throbbing shaft.

      He gasped in realization, tightening his thighs on either side of my cock almost eagerly. "Yeah, you're so good for me," I breathed, sliding from the space between his legs before snapping my hips forward. His thighs enveloped my cock like a wet, hot blanket, and as I slid between them I rubbed against his balls that were slick with cum. It was so fucking hot, and it didn't take long until I gave into the need burning inside of me, beginning to ruthlessly fuck between his legs without restraint.

      I had to reel myself back once the sound of our skin meeting begun to fill the air. It was just in time, too, as soon the sound of footsteps clicking over the tile joined the faint echo of the bathroom.

      Just as Levi gasped in horror, I threw my hand over his mouth. He desperately gripped my wrist, and I looked to see him screwing his eyes shut.

      I waited in anticipation, hearing the footsteps draw nearer, but soon stopping just short of too close. It sounded like they entered a stall next to the one beside ours, leaving a large enough gap between us that prevented them from seeing our feet.

      Biting my lip, I eyed the way my cock rested between his thighs, and slowly began thrusting into them again. Levi frantically shook his head, but I used my other hand to grip his hair and pull it back, a demand without words.

      He didn't protest, slack body shaking each time my cock slowly dragged over his balls. I leaned in close until my lips brushed his ear. "Yeah, you like when I use your body like this, where anyone can find out what I’m doing to you," I said as quietly as possible. He desperately breathed through his nose, just barely nodding his head. Still covering his mouth, I languidly thrust my hips until the oblivious student flushed and left the bathroom. As soon as their footsteps could no longer be heard, I released my grip on Levi's hair. Moving both of my hands to his ass, I parted him again before resuming my pace and relentlessly fucking his thighs.

      I groaned as my release quickly rushed to the surface, my eyes falling back as I suddenly came between his legs. I couldn't even tell where my cum hit, even though the goal was the toilet beneath us. Levi's thighs trembled, his breathing ragged as I rode out my high while suffocated in the comfort of his thighs.

      My shoulders slumped, head falling forward and resting over his as I caught my breath. He relaxed his thighs, and my cock fell from between them, still twitching in post-orgasm.

      "Eren—we have to clean up, we're disgusting," he whispered. "I can't believe we just did that.”

      "It was fun, too," I said, pulling away from him with a sigh and tucking myself back into my pants. There wasn't much left of school today, I'd shower once I got home. Levi, on the other hand, was filthy—the skin between his legs covered in a mixed layer of cum. I could smell it permeating the air. There was no way he could just pull his pants back up and leave.

      "I'll be right back," I said, exiting the stall and making a beeline for the sinks. Grabbing several wads of paper towels, I activated the soap dispenser to coat some of them before running the wads under warm water.

      I quickly returned to Levi, who looked back at me with curious eyes. "What was that all about?" he asked as I begun to clean between his legs, shivering when I ran the paper towels over his balls. "Give me that," he said, grabbing a wad from me and beginning to clean his own cock.

      "I told you, I just missed you," I muttered, moving in front of him to wipe off the toilet seat instead. Once I threw the used paper towel away in the small trashcan beside the toilet, I leaned against the stall.

      He raised an eyebrow, expression reeking of doubt. "Then why were you acting so unusual? You seem perturbed. Did something happen?"

      I folded my arms over my chest, gluing my eyes to the way he fixed his clothes so I didn't gave to face the shame of my impulsive actions through his concerned eyes. "No, nothing happened," I lied.

      He remained momentarily silent before sighing, running his fingers over my arm once his shirt was tucked back over his pants.

      "Listen, I'm all for being spontaneous in places where we shouldn't be, but next time, give me a heads up, yeah?" he said, looking up at me with expectancy.

      "Maybe," I said, unable to help the downturned smirk that curled my lips, and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

      "I'm guessing you got it all out of your system? I'm hoping to at least make some of Mrs. Kurtz class and come up with some bullshit excuse as to why I missed half of it," he said.

       I tried to prevent myself from frowning, desperately trying to keep my thoughts from Farlan—the sole reason I had sought Levi out in the midst of my mental fuck-up.

      "Yeah, we're good. I might skip the whole period, though," I admitted. "Or maybe the rest of the day." The idea of going back to class left a bitter taste on my tongue.

      He shook his head with an amused huff before bringing his finger to my chest. "So I won't get to think about how good your fingers make me feel when I look at you during gym, then?" he teased, sliding his bottom lip between his teeth.

      "Maybe I'll skip every next class but gym," I said, my mood beginning to inflate as I slid my hand around his middle.

      "That's a good boy," he whispered with a smirk, and I narrowed my eyes at him with a tightening grip over his waist.

      "Don't test that," I muttered.

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    I met Levi after his fifth period to head to gym with him, telling Mrs. Braun that had questioned my absence in the hall that I was too sick to attend class until now. She shrugged it off with a sigh, and Levi closed his locker before looking up at me with a knowing smirk.

      We began our walk to the courtyard in silence. Then, all of a sudden, footsteps approached us. I turned, instantly hit with a rush of annoyance to see Farlan walking up to us. He now wore different pants and his expression was slightly sheepish—good, he was still embarrassed, but I was surprised he was even still at school.

      I threw my arm around Levi's shoulders, pulling him close, glaring down at Farlan with a sneer as he didn't spare me a glance. I watched him briefly look down at Levi’s neck, where dark hickies were flaunted on his skin, and my chest inflated despite my conflicting apprehension.

      "Levi. A bunch of us are hanging out tomorrow night at my place. Do you wanna come?" he asked.

      My eyebrow twitched. There was no fucking way he just invited Levi out while I was standing right here. Did he have a death wish or something?

      My fingers wound tight over the sleeve of Levi's shoulder, and he glanced up at me fleetingly before back at Farlan. "Maybe. Can Eren come?" he asked.

      And that was it. That was the moment Farlan looked me in the eyes for the very first time.

      Hardened by a brief indifference and an irked sense of judgment that merely lasted a second, he glanced up at me beneath thick blond eyebrows just barely drawn together. But that split second was more than enough for me to frantically read his mind, eagerly climbing into his head with a whirlwind of anxious anticipation.

      His thoughts flowed into my own with a feeling of bitterness and resentment that I should have expected.

      But what I heard next plummeted me to a state of terror.

      "Seriously, fuck this guy. How am I supposed to show Levi he deserves better than him when I can barely even get him alone outside of school?"

      A weighted ball of nausea instantly settled in my gut as a chill ran up my spine.

      Oh my god.

      "Sure, I guess that's fine," Farlan said, looking back at Levi despite the way my eyes had grown wide with shock. I was almost numb with how purely taken aback I was, goosebumps having risen on the skin of my neck and arms.

      "Okay, cool. What time—" I cut Levi off before he could finish his sentence.

      "Actually, Levi and I have plans Friday night," I said stiffly, attempting to ignore the way my free hand was beginning to tremble. I tried to stop it by digging my nails into my palm.

      Farlan eyed me oddly before raising an eyebrow at Levi, who looked up at me in confusion. "Am I forgetting something?" he asked quietly.

      I nodded, practically on autopilot as I jerked my head. "Yeah, I already planned a thing for us," I said, holding him tighter and desperately hoping he'd take the damn hint. It took everything in my power to stay rooted where I was, my toes twitching and heels itching to rock back as panic flooded me.

      "Oh, that's right. We do have that thing," Levi said, playing along, though I couldn't bear to focus on the way he kept glancing up at me in concern.

      "No worries, hopefully another time," Farlan replied with a shrug, before bidding Levi goodbye—not before raising an eyebrow at my chest one last time.

      "What's going on with you?" Levi asked me once we were left in the hall, students still trickling around us.

      He placed a hand on my chest, but I pulled myself away from him, habitually trying to push my hair back despite the fact it was already pulled into a bun.

      "I'm going home," I forced out, already feeling a sense of queasiness crawling up my throat.

      He jerked his head back. "What? I thought you were coming to gym with me? Eren, what's wrong?"

      I shook my head. "Nothing. I just wanna fucking go home. I'll—I'll see you later, or whatever," I muttered, hating the way a dreadfully familiar heat begun to gather on my waterline. I desperately beat it down, turning away from him.

      But before I could start walking to the door, he gripped my arm. "I'll drive you, I don't mind skipping," he said.

      But I pulled my arm from him, already too overwhelmed to even consider him seeing me like this. I needed to get out of here before I lost my mind in the middle of the hallway.

      "No. I want to be alone. I'll talk to you later." I pulled my backpack further over my shoulder before rushing to leave, refusing to turn back around to look at whatever expression he might have.

      Breaths ragged and heavy, corners of my vision blurred, and a blaring ringing in my ears, I begun to walk home. All I could do was stare at the ground, dazed eyes wide and my heart pounding in my skull.

      '—Show Levi he deserves better than him,'

      Deserves better than him.

      "Fuck, fuck," I whined, bringing my hands to my head and pursing my trembling lips. I was right. I was right. Right about Farlan's intentions, right about him wanting Levi to himself. My gut was trying to tell me something this whole time, and for once, my powers had given me the exact answer I was looking for. Only, now that I knew, I was filled by a sense of despair. Fear gripped me with a clawed hand, threatening to tear my heart out of my chest with each step I took. I could hardly fathom the swarm of emotions bottling up inside of me, itching to burst in a fueled ball of rage as I forced my way home on weightless feet.

      When I shut the front door behind me, I didn't even bother to check if my parents were home. No voices called out as I hurried to the stairs, heading straight to my room and slamming the door. I locked it with a shaky hand before throwing my backpack onto the floor, my breathing quickly growing in fervor until I was hyperventilating where I stood.

      A familiar sense of helplessness and rage took over me. My temples pulsed as I painfully grit my teeth, every barrier I used to contain myself in public immediately crumbling to smithereens.

      "FUCK!" I shouted, grabbing my desk chair and throwing it across the room. It slammed into the wall beside my bed, creating a dent before clattering onto the floor. My Funko Pops flew off the wall again, and the water on my bedside table shot onto the carpet, spilling everywhere. I grabbed my lamp and slammed it onto the hardwood where the bulb shattered, shards spreading over the floor. My bedside table shook before it collided with the wall as far as it could go.

      He deserves better than you.

      In a mix of Telekinetic rage and my own violent hands, I destroyed my room. I threw my comforter onto the floor, yanked my keyboard from my computer, threw my new Playstation controller, and pulled at my own hair. I shouted at absolutely nothing, pounding my fists against the wall. The ringing in my ears was almost deafening, and all I could see was red.

      Being conscious of my own actions but having no control over my destructive behavior was a twisted result of the medication desperately trying to reel me in. But I was too far gone, too consumed by rage to stop the episode from running its course.

      He'll show Levi he deserves better than you.

      It wasn't until I had torn down my $uicideBoy$ poster that my knees gave out, forcing me to collapse onto my stripped bed.

      The ringing finally begun to subside, and with it, a crushing weight of exhaustion washed over me. I heaved into my mattress, forcing my hands to my chest to keep them from doing any more damage, and shut my eyes. At some point, my bun had come undone, and my hair fell over my face in disheveled clumps. I writhed over my bed before curling in on myself, groaning as the once numbing anger dimmed to a sad, meek ember. A pounding headache mercilessly replaced it, and I lifted my hands to clutch my head.

      The comedown from an IED episode was always the most conflicting. A sense of relief from releasing my emotions filled my chest, leaving me weightless, and yet the aching heaviness of embarrassment, guilt, and shame tangled with it.

      I couldn't even confront the state of my room, burying my head into my mattress and shivering under the lack of coverage. I didn't have the energy to grab my comforter from the floor. Curling my arms around myself, I relied on my own body heat to find any amount of warmth.

      Soon enough, I slipped into a thoughtless state of unnatural calmness. Before I knew it, the world went quiet, forcing me into an unsettling slumber.

Chapter Text

Ultimatum

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      The sound of my bedroom lock being picked was a muffled echo in the back of my mind. It felt as if I was floating in a plane between a dream and reality. It wasn't until a regretfully familiar voice blasted through my ears that I jerked awake.

      "Eren! What on earth happened?!" my mom cried, looking around at my room. My heart sank in my chest as I did the same. That's right. I had an IED episode before passing out.

      I looked through my window. It was dark out, and I glanced at my alarm clock to see that it was six PM. I had slept for almost four hours.

      "Um..." I muttered, bringing a hand to my forehead as I slowly sat up. My dad walked in behind her, eyeing the room with a stern and knowing look.

      "I'll replace it all, it's fine," I said, moving my hand to the back of my neck as shame crept through me.

      "Well, I would hope so!" my mom exclaimed, a look of horror cast over her expression. "But look at the wall!" She gestured to a dent by my bed, which I'm pretty sure was the result of my chair being thrown. "Your father will have to spackle that. We've been trying to get ahold of you for over an hour. Were you trying to hide this from us?"

      I groaned. "No mom, I was asleep—why did you pick my lock?" I asked, exasperated.

      "Because I knew something was wrong, you never nap for this long," she said matter-of-factly, as if it was completely normal to pick your son's lock while he was sleeping. Even after getting it back, I still didn't have one-hundred percent privacy.

      "Was your IED triggered, Eren?" my dad asked, his first words since I was forcibly woken up.

      "What do you think?" I grumbled, glancing down at the shattered light bulb on the floor.

      He sighed, bringing a hand to his chin and stroking his stubble. My mom huffed. "Your IED has been stable for almost two years. What could have caused this?" 

      I was instantly flooded by memories from earlier that day, overcome with a sinking dread all over again.

      But I didn't have the energy to be angry anymore. No, instead I was weighed down by fear, by the knowing feeling in the back of my mind that everything I had could be stolen from me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

      I lifted my legs to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and gluing my eyes to my knees. "Eren?" my mom asked, concern in her tone, but I remained unresponsive. I was afraid that if I let myself speak the truth, everything I was terrified of would become a reality.

      "We should leave him alone for now, Carla," Dad said quietly. In my peripheral I could see Mom hesitate, but soon she sighed, turning with my dad to leave the room.

      "Please clean up," she told me before shutting the door behind her.

      I tucked my head into my knees, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Everything I'd released in an explosion of rage earlier came crashing over me with a sickening sense of panic. 

      'Seriously, fuck this guy. How am I supposed to show Levi he deserves better than him when I can barely even get him alone outside of school?'

      Farlan's thoughts were a tormenting echo. How could Levi not tell? How was someone so smart, so intuitive, not able to see how much of a threat Farlan really was? Sure, I had read his mind, learned exactly what his motive was—he worked well to hide it, but it didn't take a mind reader to see through his facade.

      He was threatening the very foundation of our relationship. He wanted Levi to himself—to prove he was more worthy of him than I was. Fuck, and he was probably right. That realization alone was enough to shatter my resolve, hammering a venomous nail into my heart. Farlan was everything I wasn't. Smart, mentally stable, put-together, charming, the classic blonde hair with blue eyes. It wasn't fair how much leverage he had over me, how life had dealt him a better hand of cards, fucking me over and leaving me to claw at whatever crumbs it decided to give me.

      And then it gave me Levi, the greatest thing to ever happen to me. And now, life was threatening to take him away when I just barely learned what it was like to have him.

      Maybe I should just give up. Maybe it was only fair that I let Farlan have Levi to himself. It was only a matter of time until I fucked everything up on my own, anyway. Levi would soon see that Farlan was the better choice, the safer choice.

      I lifted my head and looked around at my room. The broken lamp, keys to my keyboard scattered over the hardwood floor, my ripped poster, my crumpled Funko Pop boxes, the dent in the wall. Who would want to be with someone so fucked up, who flew off the handle at the first sign of trouble?

      I gripped my hair, pinching my eyes shut. The very idea of pushing Levi away, even if it was for his own good, tore me apart. I couldn't fathom letting him go when I knew what it was like to have him. He made life worth living again. He took away the dread I used to feel from waking up in the morning. He gave me purpose, he reminded me what it was like to feel alive again. He filled my husk.

      Without him, I was a shell of a person—just as I used to be, floating through time and space without any clear direction. Living for him gave me a ground to stand on.

       Farlan may have been better than me in every way, but letting him win, letting him experience what it was like to have Levi the way that I did, was equivalent to throwing my entire life away.

      I took a deep, invigorating breath, glaring up at my empty wall.

      There was no possibility I could let Farlan have his way while my heart stil beat in my chest.

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Levi

    If there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that Eren changed my life forever.

      There was no other reality that existed where I would be better off without him in my life—for in the few months I'd grown to know him, he had shown me what it felt like to be uninhibited, inconsequentially me, knowing there was one person in the world who would accept it. For he, too, was flawed in ways many couldn't imagine.

      And god, as horrible as it might sound, I loved his flaws. Every little distinction about himself he claimed to hate, every trait he didn't feel belonged in this world with him—I held them close, nurtured them as if they were my own. 

      But there was one thing that served to leave a wrench between us, that risked tearing the rug from beneath our feet, the rug that allowed us to live as who we are without judgment.

      He was hiding something from me.

      It wasn't one of his petty-white lies he always thought he needed, it wasn't a morsel of shame from his past that he kept from the surface. It wasn't even his insecurity toward Farlan—something so obvious it was nearly painful.

      This was something substantial, something he felt was so paramount to keep secret that he would rather the entire world shift than tell me.

      And that was what I needed. That was what lied between us, the thing that would allow me to truly see into him for everything that he was.

      It had to be related to the unexplainable happenings he thought I overlooked, minute things he assumed I was too oblivious to have noticed. Yet none of them made any sense. Not within the reality I perceived, anyway.

      One truth I knew for sure was that Eren and I were destined to crash and burn unless he came forward.

      He hadn't texted me since he left school yesterday afternoon. It was the next day, and he was nowhere to be found at Sina. He had parted from me with such devastation, such bottled rage. What was going on in his head? It was the only thing I ached to learn above all else.

I'm worried about you.

Please at least let me know you're okay.

      It was the last text I'd left him with at nine AM this morning. As the rest of the day stretched on, I constantly dwelled over the way we'd left things. Farlan inviting me out couldn't have invoked that intense of a reaction from him—especially since I'd asked if he could come. I had no intention of leaving Eren out of events with my friends, no matter how different they were from each other, no matter how much he insisted they wouldn't get along.

      Yet it was like he had shoved a cold distance of arms-length between us, similar to how it'd been when we first met. Whatever had happened had instilled a sense of insecurity and anger in him that I hadn't seen since we'd begun our relationship.

      All I wanted was for him to talk to me. It was so blatantly clear he was burdened by a heavy weight, one he must have been carrying alone based on the way his parents treated him. It was driving me insane that he harbored this guise, that I wasn't capable of picking apart every aspect of him.

      But if he wouldn't trust me on his own, I might have to begin thinking of ways to force the truth from him.

      The only question lied within the lengths I'd go to do it.

      It wasn't until fourth period, nearly twenty-four hours since we'd last spoken, that he finally texted me back.

I need to talk to you