𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 | 𝐋. 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍

𝐈𝐈.𝐗.𝐢𝐢

❝𝑻𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒗𝒖𝒍𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆.❞
— 𝐂. 𝐒. 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒

꧁꧂

"WHAT ELSE CAN I DO TO APPEASE YOU—"

"Telling me what in the goddamn hell is up with you is a good start!" As hard as Levi tried to mask his fury, his body language easily betrayed his intentions, his shoulders squared back and his hands furled tightly into fists. "You can do all these things, but you can't answer one goddamned question!"

Valen huffed—her composure verged on collapse too. Everything around her seemingly warmed, the room, her skin, everything. Her blood, tearing viciously through her veins, brimmed with rage. "How many times do I have to remind you that I cannot—"

"And why not?!"

"You prick, I just told you why!"

"Oh, so we're name-calling now?" Levi tch'ed. "You can continue putting up this mysterious act, but you're not convincing anybody, not me especially. You do things because they're in your best interest, right? Tell me, how is it in your best interest to defy orders and chase after the same person who nearly killed you?!" Valen crossed her arms. "You're not stupid—you're one of the sharpest people around, as far I'm concerned. You had to have had a good reason for going after her even when everyone's lives were on the line—"

Levi's fiery spiel bleared to static, white noise, humming dully under her howling rage. What pounded through her veins was blazing and sizzling to the touch, frenzied. A million unsaid things bubbled under her skin. But she was also unsettled, frustrated. Disoriented. The end of her patience neared with startling speed, hurtling toward her at the speed of light.

She couldn't endure this for any longer.

"Fine, you want an explanation?!" Valen blurted, her exasperation reaching a breaking point. "You want to know why I do things the way I do, alright then, I'll give you an answer!" She stomped her foot down. "It's because I'm scared! I'm scared of someone taking advantage of me and hurting me! I'm scared of being kidnapped and being sold on the black market! I'm scared of being gang-raped and beaten to death afterward! I'm scared of being brutalized like the MPs did to me back in Stohess! Nearly everything I do is because I'm scared!" Her breathing was ragged and uneven, small, rough pants burning through her lips. "Is that the explanation you wanted?! Is it?!"

Levi's angered expression quickly turned to one of concern as Valen stooped over, planting her hands on her knees. Her racing heart, showing no signs of slowing, stumbled over its rhythm, and her lungs worked in overdrive to sustain her unsteady breathing. The threads holding her sanity together had come undone, unraveling by the thousands. Any strength she'd had coming inside was smoldering to ashes.

I'm going to faint. As the corners of her vision darkened, two strong arms swept under hers, supporting her weight when her legs completely gave in. The room collapsed around her—the walls, the chair Levi was sitting in when she'd come in, even the ceiling. Her only tether was the pair of arms keeping her from buckling to the floor.

The room gradually sharpened, and Valen looked around, realizing she was sitting on a bed. Her chest was lighter, less constricted, and her heart no longer rammed against her ribcage. Still, her limbs weighed like lead. She squashed the sudden urge to lay down and nap. 

"Drink." Valen glanced upward—Levi stood before her, holding out a glass of water. She took the glass with no protest, not even caring to raise the cup to her nose beforehand. Valen downed the glass like she hadn't had a sip in ages. 

When only a couple of drops remained, Levi silently took the glass from her hands, returning the glass to its place on the table. Valen wiped her lips with the back of her hand and curled inward, recovering from her panic spell. Dragging a chair behind him, Levi crossed the room back to her. As she straightened, he plopped down on the chair and seated himself in front of her.

"Hey, I didn't know you'd—"

"You're alright," Valen interjected, hoarse even though she'd just guzzled down a glass of water. Their anger gone, all that was left was a gaping space for awkward conversation. "I was not expecting that as well."

"Still..." His words trailed off, fading to silence. "Do you... uh, I don't know, want to talk about it? You look like shit." 

Valen glared. 

"Hey, you know that's not what I meant. You don't, uh, actually look like shit." Levi scoffed, but at himself. "Listen, I'm not good at these kind of things, but if you need to talk, I'm all ears. I'm not going to judge."

Valen contemplated what he'd said. Her first thought was to turn him down—her hardship was hers to withstand. Levi had already done more than enough by saving her from cracking her skull and bringing her a drink. But this was likely the only opportunity she'd ever have to freely talk about what she'd endured, and Valen was certain Levi had weathered more than his fair share of ordeals. Even if he was the bane of her existence (to an extent—she had no clue what Levi was to her anymore). "You're genuinely willing to listen?"

"Shit, Hange kept me up all night once talking about Titans. I think I can handle whatever you got on your chest," Levi responded. "We have until, what, sunrise? Whatever you need to say, go for it. We got time."

Open up. Say something. Valen unclenched her fingers (which she'd just noted had buried themselves in the sheets). With what felt like all the energy in the world, she dragged herself upright. "Since the night of my memory loss, all I have wanted was to be strong," Valen began. "I was always ill. For a year, I could hardly walk, speak even. While everyone else was working their first jobs and doing apprenticeships, I was bedridden, depending on the doctor to come by every other day. Even when I'd recovered enough to walk, I was still using crutches and canes.

"Then the Wall came down, of course," she continued. "I wound up in Wall Sina—I already said this. But even being able to provide for myself, I was still in a position of weakness. Being hounded by MPs, regarded as a pest. Of course, I'd already developed a pattern of repressing my emotions—can't work hard if you're moping around. But the deportation to Wall Rose was the final straw. I promised myself then no would degrade me anymore. That I would be more competent that they could ever be, and that no one would undermine me. That no one would dare tarnish me and walk away unscathed."

"I wanted to be strong so I could defend myself, become more than a victim of my circumstances. But that wanting became an obsession, and that obsession's destroyed me," Valen said. She hung her head. "What was I doing, parading around and calling myself strong? I'm just as much of a weakling as I was years ago, only now I'm older."

"Valen, look at me." She weakly lifted her head, meeting his gray-blue eyes. She'd hated them when they'd first locked onto hers—and she still did, to a degree—but it was until now she discovered why. They peered inside her, dissecting her very being, the power and fragility alike. He saw what she worked so hard to conceal. "You are far from a weakling."

Valen expected for the warm rush of reassurance his words would give her, but her cynicism extinguished anything resembling so. She gave a sad, dry laugh. "You're only saying that to console me," she said, acrid.

"You're wrong," Levi said. "You gave me a bruise that took weeks to go away. A weakling wouldn't have even tried." His words did nothing to lift the weight from her shoulders—she still sulked, hanging her head in disillusion. "What I'm trying to say is that you have your own way of showing strength aside from being physically strong. Weaklings don't challenge authority, nor do they stand by their own values when everyone else has a different set of ones, even if their values are... unconventional. You're not weak—you just have a severe misunderstanding of what strength is."

"What is it then?" Valen asked. "What is strength?"

"It can be many things. Personally, I believe everyone has their definition," Levi said. "But when it's properly understood, it's supposed to build you, not destroy you." He gave a disappointed sigh. "I don't understand. There's so much more to you than strength. I don't know why you'd reduce yourself to... that."

"I..." Her words snagged on her tongue. She'd repressed her feelings for so long that verbalizing them—the sadness, the humiliation, and everything in between—frightened her, seized every muscle in her body. Words could never truly illustrate how and what she felt.

So she did the one thing she'd never allowed herself to do.

A single tear slid down her cheek, followed by a second, then a third, and before she could stop and think, she was devoured in a storm of her own feelings. Valen curled in, burying her face in her hands, her soft sniffling crescendoing to agonizing sobs. She did nothing to fight the flood of emotions racing her way, allowing them to wash over her completely. It hurt—hurt so much. Wounds she'd neglected opened up, weeping red, yellow, and a million shades of colors. Minor aches she'd pushed through harshened into excruciating pain. The thing she feared for years was finally consuming her, bursting through the cage she'd locked it in.

Vulnerability.

Gradually, the winds died down, and the rain no longer pelted her skin. Her eyes felt stiff, uncomfortable in their sockets, dried from so many tears wept. As she pulled together the pieces of her composure again, the mattress sank, releasing a small groan—Levi had settled beside her on the bed. Valen unfolded, rubbing her glassy, reddened eyes. "How are you feeling now?" he asked.

Isn't it obvious? "Better," she answered. She wasn't lying—her head was clearer, more focused, and her limbs were as light as clouds. Something, though, still lingered inside her, unresolved. "Much better."

"Glad to hear that, because shit—that was more than I expected." Valen sniffed, running her hands anxiously over her forearms. "Now that you've said all this, I'm beginning to understand why you chased after her. Not saying I condone it—orders are orders. You'll likely serve a ten-day sentence for what you did. But as long you don't disobey orders like that again, consider everything resolved."

Consider everything resolved. The ten day sentence would be beyond tortuous for her, but it wouldn't be her first time behind bars. She'd serve her time, and she'd have one less thing off her plate. "So you don't resent me now?"

"No, I don't... to be frank, I don't think I've ever resented you. Resentment's too strong of a word." Valen's bottom lip trembled, and her hands locked together. "Shit, what's wrong with you this time?"

"Sorry..." Valen murmured, the lump in her throat swelling again. What had she expected? To cry once and get over everything? She hadn't cried in years. It was like her emotions were exacting revenge on her for suppressing them for so long. "Not used to this."

"Clearly." Tears pricked at her eyes. She lapsed back to her weeping self from minutes ago, a jagged cry spilling from her lips. This second time was even worse—her emotions from her first crying spell raged like an uncontrollable fire, licking up voraciously at her soul. "I don't know if I can do anything else to help. I'm at a loss here."

"No, you're alright, it's just..." Valen shuddered, a tremor snaking up her spine. "No wonder I repressed my emotions for so long. This is the worst I have been in years."

Valen continued crying, sobs and whimpers ripping through her body. She was convinced Levi would eventually stand up and go elsewhere, perhaps do something related to his Captain duties, but he stayed there, unmoving from his place on the bed. 

He probably pities me. Who wouldn't? I'm twenty-one and incapable of processing my own emotions, I'm orphaned because the government likely persecuted my family, and I can't recall anything from my childhood because of a neurological injury absolutely nobody can name or explain—

"That's it, you've cried enough," Levi said, breaking her thoughts apart. "Get over here."

Valen's head perked from her hands, which by now had gone slippery from her tears. "Pardon?"

"I said get over here." Levi draped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in and drawing a surprised gasp from Valen. It was a bold move on his part—Levi laying his hands on her nearly always earned him a string of curses—but it was not unwelcomed. Something inside her melted when her body met his. 

She felt reassured, protected.

Valen wound her arms around his torso, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck. His essence of soap and black tea soothed her, lightened the weight burdening her tensing shoulders. She closed her eyes, allowing a couple more tears to trickle from her eyes before sucking in a breath, relaxing against him. "When was the last time anyone hugged you?" he asked, his mouth hovering over her ear.

"Never." Using a single hand, Levi reached behind her head and undid her ponytail, tugging on the band until her hair dropped to her back and shoulders. Her eyes lidded as he tenderly detangled her hair with his fingers. "Why are you doing this?" Valen asked, fragile.

"Because I can."

"I thought I was selfish."

"You're right—you're exceedingly selfish," Levi said, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. The hairs on the back of her neck rose when his hand brushed her skin. "But there's more to you. You're sharp, too sharp for your own good. You're determined and never mediocre. Being physically strong is a good thing, but that's not the only thing to you and you know it."

The knot in Valen's throat tightened, and fresh tears welled in her eyes. She rose, her heart straining to stay together, and strayed from the bed, averting his gaze. She remembered why she had come to Levi's room, aside from apologizing for what she'd done in Trost.

I still haven't told him I'm leaving.

"What's wrong?" Levi asked, rising to his feet. Valen refused to answer, pressing her lips into a thin line. Noting her silence, Levi paced over to her, gently spinning her by her shoulders so she could face him. "Hey, don't pull this shit on me again, not when we just talked things out. What's going on?"

"Levi," Valen began, his name stumbling through her trembling lips. "Absolutely nothing can happen between us."

Levi scowled. "What do you mean by that?"

"I..." Valen paused—she didn't know if she could bring herself to break the news. Just imagining his reaction pulled—more like yanked—at her heartstrings. "I'm being discharged from the Scout Regiment."

Levi's grip on her arms tightened. "You're being what?!" Valen looked elsewhere, avoiding the pain in his eyes. This was exactly what she'd feared. The guilt was worse than she'd foreseen. He grasped her chin, forcing her to look him on directly. "You aren't making sense. Why are you being discharged from the Scout Regiment? Who even discharged you?"

"Erwin did, but believe it or not, I was the one who told him to do so," Valen said. Levi winced, like the revelation had slapped him. "It's too long a story to break down right now, but if I'm being discharged from the Scout Regiment, it's because I chose so. It was my obsession with strength that led me in, and if I continued to serve, I would only be worsening it." She pulled in a shaky breath. "If I do things, it's because they're in my best interest and best interest only. What's in my best interest right now is to leave."

"And what about your investigation? Al the work you—no, we did back in Trost." His chest expanded and contracted against hers in sync with his growing anger. "All the theorizing and note-taking—will everything we have done so far end in vain?"

Shame sank in her stomach—Valen had forgotten Levi had also invested his time and energy into her investigation. "An answer will be found eventually, but as I said: what's in my best interest right now is to leave. It was ultimately my decision to accept the discharge, and I have every intention of following through with it."

"You can't be doing this." Levi raked a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. He calmed, dropping his hands to his sides. "You can't be doing this," he repeated.

"It's for the best," Valen whispered, already wavering poise wavering more under the weight of her sadness. "This is what must happen. Before we do anything we regret."

"Valen, I—" She swiftly pressed a finger to his lips, bringing them to a standstill. His gray eyes rounded, questioning sparkling in his eyes, begging her for an explanation. 

"Stop," Valen pleaded, knowing exactly what he'd say. If he finished his sentence, she'd give in, and her calm would come apart in thousands of sharp, shiny pieces. She'd already risked enough by opening up. "Do not even dare."

"And why not?" Levi questioned, his eyes searching hers. "Are you scared of that too?"

Valen wished she could curse him, smack him even, but there was no way she could delude him. Albeit less than her, he was discerning, likely because of his bleak upbringing in the Underground. "Yes," she confessed.

Levi's hands slid to the small of her back, and gingerly, he reeled her in closer until her forehead rested on his. His presence wrapped around her like a warm, wool blanket. A million things—bliss, exasperation, confusion—brewed inside her. They were enough to bring back her tears.

Why? Out of everyone in the world, why did it have to be him the one she wanted?

"You're so unbearable, but I'll be damned if you vanish on me like this," Levi said under his breath, his words sharp, pointed. "I don't know what the hell you make me feel—all I know is that you're the only who makes me feel this way." He released a shaky breath. "You're flawed as all hell, but don't go."

Valen shook her head, his bangs tickling her skin as she did so. In a perfect world, she'd stay in the Scout Regiment like nothing had happened. She'd spend what remained of her days training alongside Levi until one of them died or retired. Together, they'd discover the truth of her origins, and he would be there as she pieced together the first thirteen years of her life. But if there was anything life had taught her, it was that the world, so cold and cruel, was far from perfect. "There's no challenging Erwin's orders. I have to go."

Levi's shoulders sagged. "I know..." he sighed. Valen snaked her hands around his neck, stroking her thumbs across his skin. She loved how easily her body melded in his. In all the time that'd elapsed since their spar in the gymnasium, she would have never believed being so close to him would be so heavenly.

It angered and excited her altogether.

For the past couple of weeks, Valen had played down how warmly her body had received his, how much she wished his hands would grasp onto places aside from her wrists and collar. The hatred they shared had evolved into something intriguing, more complex than they could have imagined—something so perfectly beautiful.

Something she could no longer deny—something she was sick and tired of trying to deny. 

"I hate you so much," Valen whispered.

"And I hate you even more." It was a scene all too familiar to Valen—the same one from the library, the alleyway in Trost, the cellar in the cabin. There was the scalding tension, her wanting budding inside her. She expected someone to open the door, or the Wall to be breached. Even worse, she reckoned her own uncertainty would barge in and sabotage everything. Tonight, though, none of that would be happening.

Tonight, she'd challenge her fears head on. 

Blood pounding in her ears, Valen pulled him in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. His lips on hers, it was like transcending realities. For a man as crass as Levi, his lips were surprisingly soft, warm too. Never had she visualized her and Levi like this, wrapped up in a burning kiss like the one they shared.

You imbecile! What are you even doing?! The callous, power-hungry part of her that'd controlled her decision-making for years cropped up, seething. It berated her, commanding her to step away so she could exemplify her "ideal" version: the version of her who never spared her emotions any thought, the version of her who pushed people away, even when they cared for her deeply. Valen, however, knew better than to give in. That version of her was created out of insecurity in a time where she misunderstood strength as purely physical, weakness as emotional. 

And she'd had enough of acting "strong".

Levi kissed her back, softly moving his lips against his. She eagerly drank him in, savoring the taste of tea lingering on his lips. His touch, so dangerously intoxicating, was almost enough to sweep her off her feet. It was everything she wanted.

And everything she needed.

Levi tightened his arm around her waist, hugging her curved frame to his sturdier one while his other hand caressed the side of her neck. A blazing passion overcame them, and the encounter swerved into a much more lustful direction. Valen took the lead, gently biting down on his bottom lip. His nails dug into the fabric of her shirt. The yearning in her core strengthened, and more than ever she wanted him—wanted all of him.

Kissing her, Levi steered her toward the bed, bracing her against its footboard. A slight gasp escaped from her lips when he slipped his hands below her shirt, igniting every inch of skin they stumbled upon. He hiked the hem of her shirt to her navel and knelt, skimming his fingers over her fading scars. Her eyelids fluttered as his fingers grazed where the knife had pierced her skin.

"I was worried sick, seeing you comatose in the infirmary," Levi whispered against her skin, dotting gentle kisses along her scars. Her body flushed with every kiss, and when his lips lingered for a second longer on her skin, her legs weakened, threatening to collapse under the heat of his touch." "But you're alive."

"And I'll stay alive." Levi stood again, his hands reclaiming their rightful place on her hips as he leaned in, latching his lips on hers. Wanting nothing but to feel him close, Valen slid her hands under the soft fabric of his shirt—he cursed faintly as her fingers drifted up his back, settling on his shoulder blades. 

This was vulnerability.

Valen parted from him, shifting her hands from his shoulders to his waist, guiding him around the footboard and onto the bed. There was no hesitation in his movements when he straddled her, dipping down to plant a kiss on the hollow of her collarbone. Perhaps she was being reckless, illogical even by allowing herself to be seen like this—to be so vulnerable. But she wasn't scared.

Not anymore.