His Wounded Heart Beats For One (Levi x Reader Fanfiction)

28: A Respite And A Denouement

Trost has become a tenebrous bed of coals with streetlamps fighting against the gloom of the Wall's shadow. When you step back outside and bid goodbye to Walter, your eyes struggle to adjust to the inky riverbank and its surroundings. Levi seems unaffected, a veteran of the dark.

Once the doctor has retreated back inside his home, you sigh as you look in the direction of the pedestrian footbridge farther down. 

"We'll take the bridge," you announce to your partner. "We can—" 

"I have gear." He slams a hand atop the sheathes he had reattached to his hips after leaving.

The steel boxes glimmer with whatever street light they can find to reflect. You cross your arms, glancing back at the babbling river. "I don't."

"So? We've done this before." He forces his way into your vision and harshly turns around. "Get on." 

Hands find themselves on his shoulders, joined by thighs around his waist. It's calming to hold him like this. For a moment, you wish you could replicate a similar embrace while watching him cook you both breakfast, or as he finishes styling his hair, or in any situation where you can express adoration for your other half. "No room for argument, hm?" You sink your cheek against his neck, swaddled in the glory of his sturdy frame and his subtle, perfect scent. 

"Quiet. Just let me have some fun." His cheekbone is drawn to rest atop your skull, the soldier basking in the connection while he mindlessly inspects the hilts he's withdrawn. 

Well, it's fun for you, too. You can tease him all you'd like, but this splendor is just as wondrous for you. His form is sturdy and powerful, contoured muscles bound within a leather harness. His skin is ivory perfection, barely tarnished by his years of cruel, battering history. It's soft when your face rests against it, the result of a man who takes excessively good care of himself. Eternity could be spent on his back—just his presence is nourishing enough for a lifetime. There's no greater solace than the rapture Levi evokes.

"I don't have any protests." Mumbling this gently against his neck elicits a rush of frissons along the soldier's skin.

He has to exhale, has to grip his hilts, has to drop his eyes to the ground to quell the flare of utter excitement fulminating in his heart. Levi is nearly unbeatable, the exception being this stubbornly dedicated nurse that sings a song of foreign intimacy that has failed to exist thus far. He doesn't know what to do with himself, and for once he acknowledges the fact that he doesn't need to know. Because it's just her and him, a blessed connection that needs no explanation. They needn't answer to anyone, nor explain themselves and their sincere devotion. The only audience they need is each other. 

Levi looks skyward, peering at the edge of the Wall. "Hold on tight." 

Never have sweeter words been spoken. You squeeze his chest and waist, childishly clinging to his torso with giddy vivacity. In response, he stabilizes his stance before firing anchors at the looming Wall. There's a moment of stillness while the anchors find their target, then both bodies are yanked off the ground and zip right towards the stone face. 

You scream at yourself to trust him, to wholeheartedly believe that you and Levi are not about to splatter against the Wall's bricks. Muting cries of panic, you slam your eyelids shut and brace for the shift in gravity. Indeed, the aviators soon curve upward, swiftly ascending parallel to the Wall with the assistance of wires and gas. After reminding yourself that you're safe about a million times, you crack your eyelids open and watch as Levi balances between moving skyward and avoiding slamming into the Wall. It's an awkward maneuver, accomplished only by careful calibration of the anchor placements paired with precise expulsion of gas to prioritize scaling up over flying forward.