A/N | Chapter 1- Levi

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Hey everyone! Welcome! 

This is Angel! I'm sorry that it took quite some time, but I wanted it to be good for you all. I just wanted to address something before we get this show on the road. 

When I first started AOT, I was in middle school. I was young and impressionable, and had a very loose concept of what is right and wrong. As I've gotten older, I have come to realize that if Levi and Eren were to be canon, that would be incredibly predatory, and just flat out wrong. Eren is only fifteen by season three, and possibly nineteen by season four, and Levi is in his thirties. This is something that I do not want to support, perpetuate, or condone with my work, and for that reason I chose to narrow the age gap considerably to about a five year age difference.

With that being said, I hope you enjoy Angel! Thank you all for reading; I value each and everyone of you more than you could ever know. Happy reading :) 

X

The wind rushes by my ears and up against my face. The pine trees that I swing past only make it sound more hostile. The only thing I can feel is heat in my cheeks and the tension in my stomach.

I strike out with my blade in my right hand, the blade in my left poised behind my ear, ready for the worst. I make contact with the nape of its neck and it crumples.
I lock eyes with it as it falls. I don't know what it is. It is eerily human, but there is nothing behind its eyes– they are cold and glassy. 
I hear thundering footsteps behind me that shake the ground as they creep closer. Without thinking I use the gear around my waist to propel myself into the nearest tree, spinning around simultaneously to face my next challenge. It sprints full speed ahead towards me, its lifeless eyes locked on me and its jaw sprung open. I lurch forward towards the monster, but something goes wrong. I start falling fast toward the forest floor. 

"Levi!" I hear someone yell urgently.

I am looking up at the canopy of trees above me as I spiral and the encroaching footsteps get louder.

"LEVI!" The voice calls out again. I look to my right, and see a young man swinging toward me. There is such an intensity in his eyes; I have never seen someone look more afraid.

He doesn't get to me in time. The footsteps stop beneath me. I don't stop falling.

I shoot up in my bed, cold beads of sweat rolling off my brow. I wipe them away with my hand while I try to steady myself.

I am so tired of this happening.

I haven't slept soundly in months. This dream wakes me up me pretty much every other night. It's always the same.

I have given up trying to understand it. I have read every book, watched every documentary, spent hours upon hours in the library, trying to find something, anything. I always come up empty handed.

That person is in my dream every single time. I've never seen him before; I have not even a clue who he is. But your brain doesn't just make up faces in your dreams, they are always someone you have seen before. But I think I would know if I met someone that looked like him. He isn't exactly average looking. But I do not know a soul that even remotely resembles him. 

I lay back down, letting my head land heavily against the pillow. I watch my fan spin above me, listening to the intermittent clicks from the motor and the sound the blades make as they slice through the air. My hands feel clammy and my pajama pants are sticking to my legs.

I stare until my eyelids grow heavy once more. I drift away for the remainder of the early morning, the sunlight barley peaking in through the curtains.

****

My alarm startles me awake. I press the "stop" button on my phone, and roll over, pressing my face into my pillow. Will I ever know what a good nights sleep feels like again?

I drag myself out of bed and press the heels of my hands into my eyes, eliciting pitch black and pressure. I force myself to my feet and walk towards the bathroom to ready myself for the day ahead; the only thing motivating me being the cup of coffee I'll stop for on the way to work.

I step out of the shower while the steam rushes out of the open door. I rub my hair with a towel, wicking away the excess water. I run some product through it to keep it tame, and then quickly get dressed. I stare at myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth. One of the sides of my shirt collar is stuck under my brown sweater, and I pull it free and flatten it out. There are dark circles under my eyes, but I've had them for so long I don't think I would look like me without them. I bite down on my toothbrush, and tuck the rest of my button down into my black pants, securing my belt.

I'm going to be a little late, especially after I stop for coffee, so I rush to the door and cram my feet in my shoes, while grabbing my bag and keys before heading out. I rush down the stairs and the air is cold, but it wakes me up a little. I slip into my car and head off to start the day.

Coffee in hand and keys in the other, I hurry up the stairs to my office building. I swing by my office and drop some things off, then grab my books and laptop and rush off to my first class for today. They pretty much expect me to be a few minutes late anymore. I am always in a hurry, it feels like.

I walk into the class room and they're all conversing with one another. I set my things down on the podium and take a sip of my coffee. They all turn in their seats to face me as the conversation slowly fades with my entrance.

"Good morning everyone." I say, and go headfirst into today's lecture.

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