Chasing Summer

Je t'aime

Grisha had come home from work early, which wouldn't have been a problem if I didn't have my hand down Eren's pants. I don't think I've ever moved that fast in my life. The second my ears registered the sound of the front door opening, I was up on my feet, zipping and buttoning my jeans at lightning speed. Afterwards, I stood there awkwardly by the bed until Eren tugged me down next to him. I'd just sat down when his bedroom door opened.

Grisha stood there in the doorway for several seconds, eyes darting from me to Eren. Then he held up a pink bakery box he was carrying. "I brought home some cupcakes. They'll be in the kitchen, if you want any."

"Okay," Eren sputtered out. I thought that was all he was going to say, but then he went on. "Um, Dad, do you think it would be okay if I went over to Petra's house?"

If I weren't frozen in place, I would've shot him a look for that one. It would've been obvious to a blind man what we'd just been doing. To leave right after being caught meant to confirm it, to yell out that we wanted to finish what we'd started. Might as well stamp Guilty as charged on my forehead.

I expected Grisha to deny him, to come up with some excuse to keep him here, but all he said was, "Be home at eleven. And Levi"—my whole body snapped to attention at the sound of my name, and I looked up at him like a deer caught in headlights—"I meant what I said at the diner." He shut the door after that, leaving me sitting there to fester in my confusion. I went over what we had talked about over lunch and remembered him telling me that he approved of me being with Eren.

"That was his way of giving you his blessing," said Eren, leaning to the side to press a heated kiss to my neck. His head snapped back. "Did you cover up the hickey I gave you?"

"It was necessary. I wasn't about to go out to lunch with your dad with a hickey on my neck, but that would have been nothing in comparison to this."

He laughed. "Stop worrying about it and let's get out of here."

I picked up his shoes from off the floor and tossed them to him. While he put them on, I wondered how going over to Petra's house was any better than staying here. Both Petra and Jean were there, and I wouldn't be able to concentrate with them around. There was only one other place I could think of that Eren and I could be completely alone, and that was my house, the house I hadn't been to in months.

"What are you thinking about?" Eren asked, slinging his legs over my lap.

I looked at him, at those eyes that drew me in since day one, and brought my hands up to cup his face. I ran the pad of my thumb over his parted lips and he closed his eyes. Looking at him, at the way he nestled his cheek against my palm, a rush of emotion came over me, the intensity of it overwhelming. I leaned my forehead against his and whispered, "There's a part of me that you don't know. It's ugly and dark, but...I think I'm ready to show it to you."

Eren laced his fingers through mine and kissed my knuckles. "Where are you going to take me?"

"To my uncle's house," I told him.

"The one who taught you how to fight?"

"Yeah."

He pressed his hands to my shoulders. The weight of them made me feel tied to the present. "Let's go."

I pulled him onto my lap, slipping my arms beneath the backs of his knees. His wheelchair was by the door. For a beat, I stared at it, the constant reminder of his disease. IPF had taken so much from him, and it still wasn't done—it wouldn't be done until it had stolen everything. I wasn't good at expressing myself. I couldn't string together beautiful words for him, or recite poems from memory the way he did. I couldn't conjure up lyrics to befit the way he made me feel, but I could tell him how I felt in my own clumsy way. I wanted to let him know that every day I woke up, I chose him.