Birdie (Levi x OC)

thirty-two

Captain Levi

Levi looked up from the book he was reading, the flickering fire his only source of light. The girl was finally still. Levi's gaze settled on her, curled up on his rug, a small bundle of peace tucked away under his warmest blanket. Her shaking had finally stopped, and the quiet sound of her breathing filled the space, a welcome relief. He noted her long, thick hair, a wild mess that he would tame for her later. Safe, he thought, a sense of calm washing over him. She was finally safe.

The past couple of weeks had been a living hell. The brutal toll of trying to keep two squads alive—his own, full of kids, and Hange's, also under his care—had become a crushing weight. He thought of Hange's squad, half of whom would be buried in the morning. The one member he had managed to save was hollowed out by what she'd endured, scarred emotionally and mentally. She'd not only watched her closest confidante be murdered by his uncle, but he had sent her into the MP headquarters. Like sending her straight into a pit of vipers.

Levi squeezed his eyes shut. The memory made his stomach clench.

Why didn't he say no? Why didn't he stand his ground?

Her pain was his fault. He put her in that hell.

And yet, this girl, who held no blame for him, stood by his side. She cared for him. She cried for him.

He had always measured worth in strength and resilience, in the ability to endure without complaint. But she had taught him a different kind of strength—the quiet courage that came with kindness and vulnerability.

Levi sighed, rubbing his eyes. The turmoil in his mind kept him from sleeping, a habit that had plagued him since childhood. He never fell into a deep slumber; his thoughts always prevented it. Tonight was particularly bad. He glanced at the clock on the wall before quietly getting up from his armchair to place another log on the fire. It was 2:06 AM.

He stoked the hearth, his gaze fixed on Birdie to ensure he wouldn't wake her. She was deep in sleep, a tiny snore escaping her lips. He carefully brushed a stray hair from her face and felt her forehead with the back of his hand.

No fever. The chill that had overcome her from her passing out in the bath had receded.

Safe.

And then there was the kiss. Levi had always considered feelings like these a privilege for those not fighting for humanity's survival. And yet, when her lips met his, all he could feel was a crushing fear. The warmth, the softness, the undeniable feeling of her—it was a new kind of terror. He didn't just feel the kiss; he felt the burden of loving her. Of caring for someone on such a level in a world so cruel.

A world that takes.

A world that kills.

Levi sighed, tucking the loose edge of the blanket around Birdie before returning to his armchair to await the morning.

~

I groaned, rolling my head to the side, my cheek sinking into the soft rug. I blinked my eyes open, my head dazed and confused by the strange sensation. The room was still fairly dark, with the smallest hint of dawn filtering through the window. Though the flames were gone, the hearth still radiated warmth from its glowing embers.

I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"You're awake," Levi said from his armchair. I looked over and saw him, a book in his lap and a hot cup of tea in his hands.

"What time is it?" I mumbled, still groggy.

"6:15," he replied, lazily looking back down at his book.