Birdie (Levi x OC)

sixty-five

A week had passed since I had miscarried. A week of grief filled with a silence so profound it buried me. Levi was busy much of the time. Part of me wondered if he made himself even busier, a desperate tactic to distract himself from the awful realities of that night. When he was physically present, he was rigid and often silent, and the small distance between us felt wider than the Wall itself.

I was sat in the mess hall, my spoon swirling absentmindedly in my tea. I was staring hard at the far stone wall of the room, tracing the lines between each stone with my eyes.

"Birdie?"

"Hm?" I glanced back to my table mates. Levi's squad had joined Levi and me for breakfast that morning. Their loud chatter did little to distract me.

"You haven't eaten your breakfast," it was Mikasa, who was sat on the other side of me.

I looked down at my plate. The breakfast wasn't half bad this morning: scrambled eggs and a couple pieces of fried toast. But I couldn't bring myself to eat it.

"I'm not hungry this morning," I said, mustering up a smile. "I shouldn't have taken so much."

I felt Levi's hand on my thigh beneath the table. I glanced to him on the other side of me. He had also noticed the untouched food on my plate. His brows were furrowed in a silent, rigid command: Please, eat.

I grimaced before reluctantly nodding, scraping some of the eggs onto the bread before taking a tentative bite. I chewed slowly; the food felt like a rock in my stomach. The attempt was a failure; the smell of the fried toast was suddenly too close, too normal, and I could feel the tears tighten behind my eyes. The idea of nourishment felt pointless; the physical act couldn't fix the void. I dropped the bread, shook my head, and looked at Levi. He said nothing; he just got up from the table to clear our plates.

No one had noticed the small interaction. Thankfully, Sasha and Connie had decided it was an opportune time to start picking on each other, Sasha having Connie in a headlock, causing ample distraction.

I rubbed at my temples, feeling the headache begin to brew. The hunger was there; I knew my body needed food, but my appetite had been minimal since the miscarriage. This was a different kind of resistance than the sickness had been. Levi had been worried about my weight before, but now I was refusing food for an entirely different, grief-stricken reason.

Levi rested a hand on my shoulder once he was back from clearing our plates. I looked up and nodded. Grabbing my tea, I offered a terse wave goodbye to his squad.

He released my shoulder as we left the mess hall and walked back to our quarters.

"Why the hell aren't you eating?" He said, his voice devoid of warmth once we were back in the office. The question was a blade, sharp and immediate, ignoring the professional composure he usually maintained in this space. I sat down in my chair, intent on starting on today's tasks.

"I have no appetite," I said back, my voice sounding distant. "I don't know why."

"Are you still feeling unwell? Are you in pain?" He asked quickly, trying to find some tangible, fixable reason for my refusal.

I turned my head to the side as I felt shameful. "I'm bleeding a little still. But just lightly. Other than a bit of cramping, that's it. I feel fine."

I already knew Levi knew I was lightly spotting. He did our laundry. But I still couldn't help feeling the shame of it all.

"Don't turn away from me, please," he said walking up to my desk. I looked at him then, my gaze hard as I kept the tears held back.

"I don't know if you should come to Marley with us," he said once I made eye contact with him.