The moon glowed brightly high up, the serenity of the night sky serving as a complementary backdrop. A chilling evening breeze swept the rooftop, tousling their hair. For the amount of urgency, haste and gravity in their line of work, the tranquility of the evening was always a welcoming change of scenery for soldiers like them.
"How do you always manage to say the right things at the right time? Are you a therapist or something?"
The blond sitting beside her had a smile tugging the end of his lips. They were sitting at the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling over, clad in casual clothing instead of the usual gear they wore.
"Nope. I just.. just try to see things in the perspective of others and make an effort to understand them. It's amazing how much unnecessary drama can be avoided by doing that."
She didn't understand how he could stay so kind even in their world. For as long as she remembered, he was always the most selfless man she's ever known.
"But isn't that tiring? Always thinking about the person? What about yourself?"
Beneath the moonlight skies, he turned to her with a soft smile. He patted her head, and for a big guy with big, calloused hands, the gesture was surprisingly gentle.
"I'm fine. Sometimes, there are others who need my understanding more than myself."
⎺
The low buzz of conversations occupied the space of the bar. Minimal lights brightened the place, patrons floated between tables, some throwing darts at the corner and some playing pool. Majority were college students trying to release some of that pent-up stress, one Erwin could sympathize with. He sat by the counter on one of the bar stools, nursing a light drink in his hand.
"—win. Oi, Erwin."
Blinking out of his thoughts, the said blond turned to his side to see Levi staring at him, looking irritated.
"Get your ears cleaned, would you?" He clicked his tongue. "And every time I see you, you always look so constipated, it's getting annoying. Go take a change of scenery and get laid or something."
Erwin coughed. Loudly.
"What? Or is it just Isanna you want to fuc—"
"Levi," Erwin emphasized, trying to compose himself. Always one to not sugarcoat his tongue. He gave him a stern look. "Language."
"Leave him be, Levi," Mike added from Levi's other side. The said blond was focused on his own glass. "He already has enough on his plate."
Erwin gave Mike a grateful nod, to which Levi only snorted.
"'Language', my ass. We all know you're losing your grip because Isanna is out there getting fucked by another man while you're—"
"Levi," Erwin warned, this time with a lower tone, "Enough."
Mike quickly elbowed Levi, and surprisingly, he stayed quiet this time, albeit he had to roll his eyes.
Erwin didn't even want to think about it, but of course Levi just had to go and mention it. Word for word, to boot. As if he needed any visualization of the idea of Isanna and Zeke—
Oh.
His temper suddenly flared.
"Great, just great—look at what you did," Mike hissed to Levi, gesturing to Erwin as the latter snapped out of his thoughts and turned to his friends. "If he starts exploding here in public I'm going to pretend I don't know any of you."
Levi's expression stayed the same, but Erwin swore his eyes looked like they were twinkling in amusement. The bastard.
Erwin could never associate himself with the feeling of jealousy before, but the thought of another man intimately touching her in the ways he used to ignited another flame that Erwin was sure would take a long, long time to douse.
Levi shrugged and grabbed his glass, bringing it up to his face with a "Worth a shot" mumble. Erwin didn't know how they got themselves in this conversation in the first place—one moment they were hanging out like any other friend group, talking about how their week went on this fine Monday evening, and now, this.
He allowed himself to scan a cursory eye around the place, letting the silence of their conversation accompany him and was about to take another sip when a presence slid to the stool on his empty side, turning their body to deliberately face him.
"I haven't seen you around here."
Erwin glanced at the person. She had straight jet black hair, striking facial features, and her extremely short red dress accentuated her curves that had some of the men in the bar looking her way. An evidently sultry tone laced her voice as she leaned against the counter on her side with crossed arms just below her chest, as if she was inviting Erwin's attention to her plunging v-neck—one that he didn't accept.
Nevertheless, he offered her a polite, thin smile, being the man that he was.
"Good evening. May I help you?"
Beside him, Levi and Mike exchanged glances, Levi being the one who looked more irritated as he rolled his eyes. Their blond friend was always a magnet whenever they went to establishments like these—it was why they preferred hanging out at his tea shop in the first place, to ward off googly-eyed people making moves on Erwin Smith.
It wasn't like it was a novel experience; even in the past, they'd sometimes pass by giggling, doe-eyed groups of women whenever they returned from an excursion. Heck, their branch even occasionally received letters from personnel from the other branches with Erwin as the recipient—what they thought would be some sort of informative correspondence about military agenda was actually just an elaborate love letter for their handsome Commander.
And of course, Erwin never batted an eye through it all, too preoccupied with work. Then, after getting with Isanna, he'd been merely too engrossed with her to even care about the rest.
"He might as well get laid this time," Levi muttered, earning a silent snort from Mike.
"We both know he won't."
And, as usual, they were right on mark.
"My girls are just in the mood for some company, why don't you join us at our table?" the woman offered, leaning a bit to send a sweet smile at the other two. "You can bring your friends with you too."
Erwin glanced at them, and after reading the looks on their faces, he turned to the lady once more.
"Thank you for the offer, but they prefer staying."
"And you?"
"I'm afraid I will have to decline as well," Erwin said. He sent her an apologetic smile, which was enough to alleviate her disappointment as she shrugged and stood from the stool.
"Who am I to refuse a handsome man's smile?" she chuckled in defeat, glancing at his hands. "Pardon me for asking, but you're not married, are you?"
A shake of the head elicited a follow-up question.
"Oh, a girlfriend, then?"
Erwin paused and could feel both his friends' eyes burning through him.
And before he could even think a coherent thought, the answer left his lips. "Yes."
As the woman nodded and bid them goodbye before sashaying away, it took everything in Erwin to ignore the teasing grins from the other two. Although it was beginning to unnerve him.
"Girlfriend, huh," Levi started, holding back a smirk. "Someone's getting ahead of themselves."
"Don't start," Erwin sighed, and he had to hold back a desperate 'please'. He tried to focus on his drink instead. Damn it, he should have gotten a heavier one, but he didn't want to drink himself stupid because he had to drive back home.
"I'm more shocked you didn't say fiancée," Mike teased and Erwin didn't need to look to know he had a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Mike, not you too."
Mike laughed a short-lived chuckle. In the past, Erwin had that air that screamed of untouchable. A man you couldn't easily joke around nor tease. Although it was a given considering his position, Mike relished in the fact that Erwin wasn't as straitlaced as he was now.
Now, he was just a man pathetically in love. With his ex-slash-not-really ex-lover. An ex-slash-not-really ex-lover who was engaged with his ex-slash-not-really ex-enemy.
Mike gauged him for a bit more, before finally shooting the question that had been bugging him.
"So.. I'm guessing you decided not to run away anymore?"
"It's not like I ever ran away in the first place," Erwin answered.
Suuuuure. Mike laughed through his nose. "Oho, is this Commander Erwin Smith's comeback? You were never planning on letting her go, weren't you."
"Never."
"If Hange were here she'd be gushing over this nonstop." Levi snorted, before he crossed his arms and pointedly looked at Erwin with a raised brow.
"So? What do you want me to do? Kill that monkey again for you, commander?"
Mike was about to chide him off when Erwin beat him to it.
"Tempting offer. But I'd rather not resort to brutality."
"Tch. What happened to that brutal commander persona of yours? 'Sides," Levi said with a shrug as he leaned against the backrest of the stool and glanced at Mike, "you're a detective aren't you? We can just hide the body and—"
"Stop," Mike sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Was he serious? "I am legally and morally obliged to refuse that proposition."
Sometimes, he wasn't sure whether the words that came out of Levi's mouth were mere jokes or not. The guy always says it with the straightest face.
Typical Levi behavior.
"I'm surprised you're fine with this," Erwin said after a while, looking at Mike. "You were the one who said not to act selfishly."
Mike thought back to his vet appointment with Isanna. The trance-like state of her face the moment she laid eyes on Mhile, lips parting like soundless words were leaving her in a breathless exhale.
"That was before I realized she was getting flashbacks. It's only a matter of time before she remembers," he mused. "By the time it happens, I'm sure you'll be the first one she'll look for, Erwin."
Erwin could already picture the mess that would ensue when the day comes. He wondered if he was an evil man for anticipating it, knowing full well the whiplash could possibly leave Isanna disoriented and conflicted for a while. Not to mention Zeke Yeager. He was a whole separate issue.
"Let's just hope she remembers before they set the wedding date—if there even is any," Levi muttered, and Erwin swore he felt his entire being shaken to the core at the possibility. To witness the love of his life walk down the aisle for a man that wasn't him—suddenly, being a heartless commander was a better option.
"Levi," Mike called with a tired sigh, interrupting Erwin's thoughts. "While I do appreciate your bluntness, I beg for you to have some compassion for our friend."
Levi offered a half-hearted apology, one Erwin couldn't help but frown in disapproval. He was about to ask what is it about today that had Levi continuously poke fun at him unprovoked, when his phone rang.
Pulling back from the conversation, Erwin glanced at the screen and read the caller.
⎺
When Isanna walked inside the establishment, dim lighting casted minimal hues across the ceilings and painted walls. Booming music reverberated across the dance floor, but she didn't pay the swaying bodies and laughing buzz any heed and instead made a beeline for the bar counter.
She put it in her order and waited until the bartender arrived with her drink. Pouring herself a shot glass, she had all the intention of loosening up, at least just for this evening, if only to wake up from her conflicting emotions for a certain blond gentleman and get a grip on reality.
The past week was nothing short of a drag. Her body felt as heavy as lead every day at work, her mind restless, and her heart like a sinking boat. She'd been so out of it that Zeke had decided to move their amusement park date at a later date because she just wasn't feeling it, and Isanna felt bad because she was fully aware she'd been acting off and distant from him because of the whirling thoughts plaguing her mind lately.
It certainly didn't help that this time around, Dream Erwin (she decided to call him that) thought it would be lovely to bring some new friends to pester Isanna's dreams. Lately, she'd occasionally dream of another blond. Her usual dreams consisted of Erwin as the centerpiece, but the one in her dream this time around was someone else entirely, although Isanna couldn't quite get his face clearly because it was a big blob of blur. Then sometimes, she'd see visions of a man with dark hair and a snarky tongue whenever he opened his mouth, sometimes it was a flash of a dark brunette chatting away in excited rambles, and then sometimes of random scenes with that tall blond with the deep, calming voice—all of them wearing that same uniform of tan jackets and military boots and leather straps.
"Rough day?"
Isanna was already halfway through the bottle when the bartender struck up a conversation. The look on his face screamed of borderline concern and amusement as he routinely wiped a glass with a cloth on the other side of the counter.
"Wish it was just today.." Isanna grumbled, allowing her irritation to seep through her voice. Her throat burned, the glass bottle seemed to be swaying just a tiny bit, and maybe her head was slightly pounding. Maybe.
This has been annoying me for months already.
"What is?"
Isanna blinked and took a second to realize that she'd said her thoughts out loud.
"Trying to get me to talk, aren't you."
"You look like you need it." He shrugged. "But I'm not gonna force you."
Isanna pursed her lips and maintained eye contact with him, before she averted her gaze with a huff.
"Thanks for the offer." The rejection was outright, and the bartender simply nodded and continued his mindless task.
For the next couple of minutes, Isanna engaged in her own mindless task—at least, it was as mindless as it could get, with her pouring herself a glass, downing it in one gulp, swallowing the burning taste down her throat, staring blankly into the air, then repeat. Each movement felt monotonous, robotic; anyone looking at her could have mistaken her for a machine.
It wasn't until she had about a quarter of the amount left in her bottle when she started rambling nonsense to the bartender.
"—an' I dun understand 'im at all, who does he think he is, looking at me with those.. those—" Isanna made a vague, sluggish motion in the air— "those big blue eyes? He pisses me off!"
"Riiiight," the bartender nodded with a dry tone. "How dare he have blue eyes."
"Exactly!"
"Very evil."
"Very."
The man whose name Isanna still didn't know swept a glance around the empty bar. "You know, miss, you might as well belong to that 'evil' list if you don't let me start closing."
"But I'm not done yet!"
He looked at her mess of a state and held back a sigh. Isanna was practically slumped over the timbered counter, words slurring and utterly intoxicated. She barely heard him offering to call a friend to pick her up, barely even realized how he politely muttered an 'Excuse me' as he reached for her purse and fished for something.
Maybe Isanna should have cared a lot more and drank responsibly, but she had her hands full ranting thoughts that had no business being shared with a total stranger.
"He makes me feel.. all tingly inside. I don't know how to—" she hiccupped— "He's—kinda—I get it, but he's—"
"You're not making any sense, miss."
"Handsome," Isanna exhaled, with all the exasperation she could muster as she lifted herself off the bar for just a moment, before she fell back with a thud and groaned. "He's.. pretty. Cute eyebrows. And his nose—god his nose—"
"—yeah, she's really wasted right now and we're about to close so... uhuh. Okay. Thanks." The bartender ended the call and carefully placed her phone back in her bag. "Your fiancé's coming to pick you up, miss."
Groggily lifting her head, Isanna hardly registered his words but nodded anyway.
The next fifteen minutes or so were spent with Isanna lounging like melted cheese over the counter, while the bartender began wiping the surface. He was so considerate he decided not to make her move from the counter, resorting to skip that specific portion of his clean-up for the time being.
"... hate him," Isanna mumbled incoherently out-of-nowhere.
The bartender only spared her a glance as he proceeded to wipe the sides of the counter. "Aren't you supposed to like your fiancé?"
No, not him..
Isanna meant someone else.
Almost immediately, that tight, twisted feeling began to build up in her chest once more. Just the thought of him ached. Just how lost was she in this swirling pit of madness?
Isanna closed her eyes, slowly inhaling, hoping to calm her senses.
It did the exact opposite.
Behind the lids of her eyes, she saw herself on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. Down, down below, the raging waves crashed against the jagged rocks that protruded, splashing angry billows against the hard earth of the base of the cliff. It was an all-too accurate portrayal of her shambolic mind.
There was nowhere to go. Nowhere except down the cliff, into the beckoning call of the unrestrained ocean. Isanna wasn't insane as to jump off—an act that would have signed off her demise. Her defeat.
She looked down and could see the arches of each wave, mimicking tendrils of a mist that seemed to be taunting her over.
Jump, the water echoed, let us consume you.
Fall.
She couldn't. Not when she already had her life in store for her together with someone who loved her dearly, not when—
The front doors of the bar lightly pushed open but her mind was too intoxicated to even register it. So she lay there, her head resting on her crossed arms, eyes still shut in the never-ending turbulence of her own thoughts.
Isanna could vaguely hear the bartender calling from some part of the room. Something like "Ah, so you're the fiancé" or something along those lines.
The response came a little later, as if the person was a bit hesitant.
"Thank you for looking after her."
Pause.
Isanna's forehead creased, yet her mind was still too sluggish and body heavy.
That didn't sound like—
A gentle pat on her shoulder and a warm presence beside her had her slowly opening her eyes.
There was a blurry face peering down at her, a blob of two blues—which she soon realized were his eyes, eyebrows that looked a bit too thick to be Zeke's, golden-blond hair in a shade far darker, and—
"Miss Isanna, can you walk?"
—a baritone deeper than her fiancé's.
Of course it just had to be him.
Isanna didn't even realize the sluggish 'Yes' that left her lips, the slow nod of her head, the way Erwin gently helped her off the bar stool with a firm yet delicate hold on her shoulder, while his free one grabbed her purse. If she were sober she would have been more conscious over the fact that their bodies were pressed so close, but because her mind was a bit numbed, the entire situation almost flew over her head.
Isanna may or may not have bid the bartender a goodbye (that was the least she could have done after the trouble she caused him), because she was too preoccupied trying to put her foot in front of the other as Erwin guided her out of the bar, greeting the cold air of the night. A shiver ran down her spine, and maybe Erwin felt it since he briefly let go of her and the next thing she knew, something soft and warm draped over her shoulder; Erwin's trench coat.
They crossed the near-empty road to the other side where Erwin had parked his car, and while they were at it, Isanna couldn't help but notice how he never said a word.
It wasn't until they reached the passenger side of his car, just when Erwin was about to open the door, that it finally clicked in Isanna's head.
Erwin was here.
He was actually here—not Zeke—despite the bartender claiming that he had 'called her fiancé'. Did she accidentally refer to Erwin as her fiancé during her drunken spiel? That couldn't be..
Erwin pulled the door open, but Isanna leaned against the side with a soft thump, making no move to enter.
The street was practically barren, lighted with but a few lampposts. The winter season was rolling in, just the period before the inevitable snow, so the evening waft blowing through the silence between them was as cold as a freezer, yet neither seemed too eager to jump into the warmth inside the car.
With her back still against the car and without looking at him, Isanna said, "You're not Zeke."
Puffs of cold breath billowed out of her with each word. She knew Erwin was probably cold too, especially since she was wearing his trench coat.
".. Yes, I'm not," he said, still holding the door open, waiting patiently.
"Why did you come?"
"You needed a ride home."
Isanna briefly shut her eyes close, holding in an exasperated groan. The goal this evening was to drink her troubles away. Why did it feel like everything was turning out the exact opposite?
Here was the core reason of her dilemma, holding out his car door for her, after draping his only protection against the cold on her.
Erwin seemed to read the conflict in her expression, as he shattered the quietude.
"Does my being here bother you, miss Isanna?"
Her eyes dropped to her feet. The coat sitting on her shoulders felt a bit too big, but it was so snug. Erwin's cologne clung to it like glue, engulfing her like a warm embrace amidst the ice-cold winter night. And she absolutely hated how cozy it made her feel.
It didn't help that her tongue felt loose, and her mind foggy due to the alcohol.
"It does," she mumbled into the collar of the coat. "The thought of you bothers me. The.. the entirety of you, Erwin."
She didn't dare lift her gaze to meet his, too afraid of the expression she would see. Too afraid that she'll succumb to that searching, morose gaze of his.
"I'm sorry," he said, and Isanna didn't understand the sinking pit in her chest after hearing that.
".. I'm sorry too," she said and pushed herself off the car, finally turning to duck inside the passenger seat, all the while avoiding Erwin's burning stare.
Erwin had rested an arm over the edge of the roof to protect her head as she ducked inside, before he bent down and fastened the seat belt for her.
Isanna hitched a breath at the back of her throat as Erwin leaned over her, the close-up view of the side of his face igniting yet another flame in her that she was quick to douse. But before she could even help it, her tongue was swifter than her mind.
"You look so much like him."
Her light, airy exasperated sigh made Erwin pause just as her seatbelt clicked. He stayed in that position for seconds, until he slowly turned to her, an inquisitive question dancing in eyes. They were only separated by a hair's breadth, but neither made a move.
And, when Isanna gradually lifted a careful hand to hold the side of his face, Erwin felt his breathing constrict.
"Like whom?"
Isanna heaved a shaky breath. Her eyelids grew heavy, her gaze dropping from his eyes, down to the rough but beautiful curve of his aquiline nose, then eventually, to his lips.
"Like the man in my dreams," she whispered, before she tore her attention from his lips and focused back on his eyes.
The alarms in her head were blaring. Against her better judgement (then again, she was drunk, so she currently didn't have any good judgment, at all), she stayed her palm against Erwin's chiseled cheek, feeling the prominence of his bone structures, absentmindedly caressing.
"Not just you," Isanna mumbled, ".. sometimes I see Mike.. and Levi, he was kinda annoying in my dreams—always had something to say—" she failed to notice the smallest twitch on Erwin's lips— "—and Hange."
She continued, "We were all friends. We were.. we laughed a lot together. Fought together.. and.."
Inhaling a slow breath, Isanna pulled back her hand but maintained close eye contact.
"And you were there too, Erwin," her voice shook, and Erwin caught the glistening in her eyes. "You were there, and the two of us—we were.. we were—"
"Lovers," he continued for her, voice toned down into a whisper as he raised a hand and gently cupped her face. "We were lovers."
Had Erwin lacked just an inch of self-control, he would have leaned forward and connected their lips. But one look at the glazed expression on Isanna's face told him she wasn't exactly in full control of her own, and he knew he shouldn't take any more advantage than he already did.
"How did you know?" she asked.
A nostalgic smile slowly formed on him.
He couldn't have her just yet—so he settled for a chaste kiss on her forehead, the spot he loved to kiss her the most, second only on her lips.
Maybe Isanna should have shoved him. In fact, she should have. The kiss was far too intimate to be a friendly gesture—not something she should have readily accepted from another man, yet Erwin Smith was simply not a man she could push away, even if she wanted to.
With him, it was the exact opposite of pushing away. She wanted to pull him closer.
Isanna closed her eyes, and when Erwin pulled back seconds later, there was a moment's delay before she opened them to look at him.
A different hue of emotion shone in Erwin's eyes as he tucked a loose strand behind Isanna's ear.
"Maybe I had the same dream."
Erwin finally answered, before he pulled away from her space and told her to watch her head, before he shut the car door.
The ride was unsurprisingly quiet.
Erwin flexed his grip tight on the steering wheel, his mind replaying every moment and every touch he shared with Isanna—from the moment he picked her from the bar, to guiding her to his car, to how she looked like she was about to push him away, but then decided otherwise as she stepped inside his car. To how she admitted she had dreams of him.
At this point, Erwin was a hundred percent sure: Isanna is remembering him. She was on the right path—albeit it was a rocky one. And he could tell she was fighting tooth and nail rejecting the very thought of him.
Erwin stepped on the brakes as the traffic light shone red. He took that chance to steal a glance at Isanna, who had dozed off to sleep a few minutes ago. Her head had lolled to the side, facing towards him, and he noticed the tiny crystals of tears forming at the corner of her closed eyes, a mild knit of her eyebrows decorating her forehead.
Erwin felt his chest squeeze tight at the sight. He lifted a hand and gently used a finger to wipe the unshed tears away.
"I must be the most despicable man, to make you shed tears even in this life."
The light turned green, so Erwin had to force himself to look away as he drove the car forward. When they finally arrived at Isanna's place, Erwin noticed how the lights in their house were all turned off and didn't realize how tense he's been feeling the entire ride, thinking he'd have to face Zeke's interrogations.
An inaudible, relieved sigh escaped him.
After turning off the engine, Erwin stepped out of the car and circled around to the passenger's seat, gently picking Isanna and her bag. He walked up the front porch of their home, and after a slight struggle, managed to find Isanna's keys and unlocked the front doors.
After closing the doors with his waist, Erwin found the switch and was greeted with a cozy living room. His eyes scanned the frames hung on the wall and on top of the fireplace, but when he realized most were photos of Isanna and Zeke's younger years, he was quick to avert his attention and pretend he didn't see anything.
With a snoozing Isanna in his arms, he padded towards the sofa and slowly lowered her onto the cushion. He tucked her in using the throw pillows, walling her from the edge in case she'd roll over and fall. Her serene sleeping face evoked a wave of protectiveness, and suddenly Erwin's feet felt heavy; he didn't want to leave.
After straightening himself, his eyes skimmed through the entire space. This was the place Isanna was staying. He pictured her traipsing across the floors, wearing comfy housewear and her hair tied up messily after sleeping in. He imagined her in the kitchen, accompanied with a savory aroma as she prepared a meal.
Then, while ruminating, his thoughts diverted to something more fantastical—a distant dream of his that he never got to witness before. A dream he couldn't fulfill, not when he'd been a Commander.
He imagined himself walking through the front door, maybe after a day's full of work, trudging up towards Isanna. Then she'd turn to him with a smile that was enough to wash away his fatigue, maybe greet him with a welcome home kiss. Then they'd share a dinner, together with their—
Erwin fell back to reality when he heard the doorknob to the front entrance turn.
He was barely able to think of a strategy (psh, strategy? He wasn't even a commander anymore) when Zeke popped behind the door, ruffling his blond locks.
"Isa, you didn't lock the—"
Zeke froze right at the doorway, hand stilling on his head when his eyes locked on Erwin standing smack in the middle of his living room, with his fiancée slumbering away without a care in the world on their couch.
".. door," he finished, voice trailing. Zeke dropped his hand back to his side, gaze alternating between Isanna and Erwin.
When the silence trickled by, Erwin eventually found his voice and cleared his throat.
"I apologize for inviting myself unannou—"
"What are you doing in my house?"
Erwin bit an insult back. He had no right to get mad at him for cutting him off—especially not when he was the one who had barged inside, fantasizing about a domestic life with Isanna right under Zeke's roof.
"I simply picked Isanna from a bar. She was drinking by herself."
Zeke's frown became even more pronounced. He glanced at Isanna, and even Erwin could read the confusion plastered on his face.
".. Now that I've brought her home, I'll excuse myself." Erwin gave a curt nod, adjusting his trench coat before he started heading for the door.
Zeke never said a thing. Didn't even grab and pull his sleeve nor throw him against the wall when he walked by. Even when Erwin shut the door close, he stood there on his spot in silence.
It took Zeke another few seconds before he began to move, stopping right in front of the couch and staring down at Isanna's sleeping face, before he eventually leaned down and picked her up.
Zeke secured his hold on her and started making his way to their shared bedroom, lips pulled into a tight line and with an almost blank stare ahead of him, thoughts too preoccupied.
When he gently placed her on their mattress, he sat down beside her.
"Why didn't you call me instead?"
It was a question he knew he wouldn't receive an answer to, and a question he dreaded.
And when Zeke raised a hand, about to push away the stray lock hanging over her forehead when, in the midst of her sleep, Isanna uttered a name that wasn't his.
"Erwin.."
Barely louder than a whisper—a mumble, a soft exhale; said so incoherently he wouldn't have heard it had they been in a loud room. And the way it left her lips, the way Isanna said it like a contented sigh, the way her chest heaved and the way her face looked more at peace right after, as if the name itself was a refuge from whatever's been haunting her dreams—Zeke knew this all too well.
Slowly, he brought his hand back, as if his own heart wasn't breaking into pieces, as if he wasn't losing something more precious to him than his own life. The only thing he ever truly yearned for—the only thing he was allowed to want.
Carefully, so that he wouldn't disrupt her sleep, Zeke stood and left the room.
⎺
Next week...
Isanna craned her neck at the top shelf, eyeing the jar of cream cheese. Carts rolled down the aisle, children nagged their mothers to buy this and that, beeping noises from the cash register echoed, and the air blowing from the cooling units simultaneously flowed throughout the grocery store.
After much mental calculations and debate over whether she really needed that damn jar, she decided to get at least one for the mornings where she doesn't feel like cooking and instead settle for toasted bread.
Contented with her choice, Isanna pushed her shopping cart forward, glancing down at her grocery list and about to turn the corner of the aisle when she almost rammed into another cart.
Luckily, she managed to stop just in time, abruptly halting her cart filled with products.
Her brows lifted in recognition.
"Levi."
The man in question was pushing his own cart filled with groceries, a list in one hand. His eyebrows quirked when he saw her, and gave a nod of his own.
"You get your groceries here too?" Isanna asked, switching her shoulder bag from one shoulder to the next.
Levi shrugged. "Their detergents were on sale."
Isanna released an unintentional snort. "Right. Always the cleaning connoisseur, aren't you?"
"What would you know about cleaning?"
"Excuse you," Isanna dramatically gasped, acting offended with her eyes rolling. "I clean up after myself nicely."
Levi fought back a smile from forming. There was something in their exchange that felt very familiar. Bit by bit, he was starting to see the cracks of her current persona.
Oh, he bet Erwin would be delighted to see her like this.
Isanna adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag, shifting on her feet. "Well, don't let me get in the way of your male-wifey shopping escapades."
"My male—what?"
Isanna parted her lips for a snarky response, a smirk dancing on her features when a ringtone pierced through the conversation.
Levi felt for his phone in his pocket and took it out. Isanna raised a brow.
"Seriously? The default?"
"Oh what, you're the ringtone connoisseur now?"
Before she could even get a word in, Levi swiped the call to accept it and raised it to his ear like the little jackass he was. Isanna squinted at him, yet couldn't help but feel a bit.. warm?
She wasn't sure why, but for some reason, talking to Levi suddenly felt easier than the last. Like the playful banter just naturally flowed out of her, the quick snarky responses so fluid, as if they'd rehearsed this plenty of times before.
Flashes of a dark-haired, sharp-tongued man in her dreams came to mind. He had a dry expression most of the time, as if something was constantly up his ass and everything annoyed him, but for some unknown reason, Isanna knew he was more gentle and caring than he ever let on.
In her dreams, there were times the man looked at her like he'd sell her away for two cents without hesitation, but then, away from prying eyes, there were times she'd seen him allow her a hug in silent consolation; somewhere in between the trash talk, cursing and insults, he cared for her like she was another part of him.
"What did you just say?"
Isanna lightly flinched and shook her thoughts away when she noticed the change in expression on Levi's face and the mild alarm in his voice. What replaced his nonchalant expression was one of concern.
Immediately, Isanna knew something was wrong. Levi never panics.
Something dark and twisted began to form like a ball in her gut, a sinking pit, something familiar. She barely realized she had subconsciously crumpled her grocery list in her fist.
"Alright. I'll be there." Levi ended the call, eyes danced in worry. He lowered his phone and immediately walked away without a word to her.
Obviously, Isanna followed after him, calling him amidst the crowd in the store. Even if she wondered why Levi abruptly left his shopping cart filled with discounted cleaning products knowing how much he loved hoarding them, she was more anxious to know what made him act so urgent all of a sudden, because deep in her gut, something told her she needed to know.
"Levi, wait!"
Levi didn't wait. He waltzed right out of the automatic sliding glass doors of the store and zoomed straight to the parking lot, fists balled tight and steps heavy against the pavement.
"Levi—" Isanna eventually caught up and roughly grabbed his wrist— "Where are you going so suddenly? What the hell happened?"
When Levi turned to her, it was then did she note how pale he looked and the hesitancy in his eyes before he roughly pulled his wrist back.
"Levi—"
"It's Mike," he snapped, and Isanna felt her stomach drop.
"What?" It felt like a punch to the gut, and she felt stupid, but she couldn't help but ask why. "Mike? What about him?"
Levi looked at the ground with a tight jaw, before he cursed under his breath and looked up at her in resignation.
That was when Isanna remembered the other man in her dreams—of a blond she cared for like no other. And the next words he said sent her world tumbling over.
"They rushed him to the hospital."