Her Majesty's Knight

Chapter 30 - Levi

A/N: Chapter 30! My fanfiction has finally reached the big three O! It can kiss its youth goodbye now. As you know, life ends at 30. (It doesn't, it's actually not that bad.)

Song inspired for this chapter: Colorblind by Counting Crows. This song is just so beautiful and fits Levi to a tee. It's about a person who just desperately wants to be loved... 

I sit alone by a babbling brook for the rest of the day, and my squad seems to understand that I need to be alone.

I have too many thoughts running through my mind, and they all revolve around a certain blonde queen.

Shit... I've never met anyone so infuriating. The last person who ever made me feel so pissed was good old eyebrows. Another blond, how ironic.

I've also never met anyone who makes my heart thump in ways it never has before, and if I'm not careful, we're both going to get hurt.

I like to think I can weather any storm, but not over matters of the heart. I'm too weak to handle such superfluous emotion, and it will destroy me from within. That's why I prefer to be cold, calculating Captain Levi. For if I even show anyone the slightest hint that I do, indeed, have feelings, then they will use it against me and crush me.

Though I doubt that sweet, beautiful girl could ever be capable of such malice. Despite her downright insolence and brazen attitude earlier, there's not a bad bone in her body.

And that's the reason why I have fallen head over heels for her. Kindness is a rare trait these days, and even though her sweetness is a complement to my bitterness, that's beside the point. We can and never will be, and it's not about the age gap anymore; all that stuff is irrelevant when two people love each other enough.

Do you want the god honest truth? I don't think I deserve love, and I definitely don't deserve someone as pure as Historia. She's too good for this shitty world, but me... I'm rotten. And no fancy title such as Humanity's Strongest will ever change that.

I'm a brute through and through; I've done things with a dentist's scalpel that I'm not proud of. Unspeakable things that should stay in the dark of the underground or 'hell' as I like to call it.

Demons are from hell. Go fig.

But angels? Well, they're from a whole other plane... Just like Historia when her soul fell from heaven and landed inside the body of a newborn baby girl eighteen years ago.

Eighteen years ago...

Shit. I can still recall the January of 835, which was around the time Historia's bitch of a mother begrudgingly gave birth to her. Not that time seemed to make any difference down in hell with there being no sunlight to signal the arrival and end of a new day, but that doesn't mean I didn't check a calendar. I'm a man who likes organisation, who likes to plan ahead.

I was a teenage punk back then, the head of a gang. It was around the time Farlan and I first met, and fuck did we clash. He was the head of his own gang of thugs, but then we soon joined forces and became inseparable, and then we enjoyed ten years of friendship before Erwin found us.

Not that thirty-something is old exactly but to Historia... I may as well be ancient. I've got enough battle scars to prove it — the figurative and the literal kind.

I release an exasperated breath, gripping my forehead. Screw this babbling brook; it's doing nothing to settle my nerves.

It's already dusk. The sky is a luminescent pink as the sun sets in the west. I should head back to my squad, but I can't face Historia. Every time I look at her, I die inside.