Attack on Titan Levi x Reader

I Could Never Forget

Author's Note: Exams are here for me, so things are a bit tense. All I Want is for You to be Happy is one of my longer one shots that I haven't really gotten a chance to work on. We're also doing some home renovation, that's kept me busy. I'm not over 18 by the way. Just in case you thought it was my house or that I was doing all the crap. So here's one a little shorter to hold you over until I can finish the other, which hopefully, will be next weekend.

My eyes flutter open to find him lying beside me, gathering me into his arms and nuzzling his lips against the crook of my neck. I sigh, content with the knowledge that I can honestly say I love him. Fingers ghost through his undercut, and he burrows lower, into my chest. "Good morning, love," I whisper before pecking his forehead. He groans in response and I chuckle. Trying to free from his hold, he grips tighter and yanks me under the covers.
"You're not going anywhere." With a wicked grin, he begins planting kisses across me. The feel of his lips caressing me makes me ache in a sensation that I've only found by him.
After making love that morning I head to my publishers and write for a few hours with Hangi Zoe, my quirky, four-eyed best friend. Then I stopped at Jeager's Bakery, ran by my childhood friend Eren Jeager, the angriest male on the planet, and his adopted sister Mikasa Ackerman, an Asian American with a tortured past resolved by Eren's cynical nature. Meaning, he murdered the people who murdered her parents when we were children.
Lastly, I popped into the bookshop where Armin Arlert, a genius wasting his intelligence behind a counter, works for his grandfather. He keeps the best sellers safe for me until I can come get them. I tuck the novel into my purse before heading out.
When I'm back at the apartment I find Levi playing his piano. It's just like him, dark, beautiful, and can go from silent to rythmic passion in an instant. "I got a new book today." He doesn't respond. "Levi, I got a new book."
"That's great," he snaps quickly.
"Wouldn't you like to know what it's about?"
"Not right now." Another short, fast reply. Maybe work is stressing him, I'll make a great dinner to lessen his stress.
Six o'clock rolls around, and I've made two plates of spaghetti, sided by two glasses of wine. "I made one of your favorites, come eat," I call across the apartment. "Just wrap it up for me and I'll eat it later." What? Is he mad at me? I don't want to push him into this, that would only make things worse. I do as he asks and then head to bed, but I lie awake for as long as I can, waiting. But he never comes.
Days pass this way, then weeks, soon months. I feel alone, although I'm living with another person, only he doesn't speak to me anymore. He only plays his piano, writing music and crumbling worthless sheets for me to dispose, with another bottle of strawberry wine.
He doesn't love you anymore.
He doesn't want you anymore.
Give up.
Drink the sorrow.
No. No. No! I can't quit on him. He may not love me, but I love him. I call Eren, asking him to bake two special cupcakes, the same Levi and I ordered on our first date there. Maybe that will rekindle the fire! I have to try something, that's been made clear.
"I'm going out," I call. "I won't be long." Standing in the door, coat closed tightly and scarf wrapped cozy around my neck, I wait for his reply. But still he plays, gaze fixed on those rythmic fingers. The door closes behind me softly. I make my way to the street, and, through the gentle snowfall, continue to the bake shop.
The jingle of the usual bell welcomes me in. Mikasa, who's busting tables, waves to me as I set my purse on the counter top. After placing a stack of ten dollar bills into the register, Eren greets me. "You're not visiting, are you?"
"Sorry, but no. Do you have my order?"
"Of course." From behind him, Eren reveals a box of thin cardboard with my name scribbled largely across the top. "I can always count on you guys. What do I owe you?" In my hand I already have my purse popped open and cash clutched. "For you nothing."
"Really?"
"It's actually for Levi isn't it? So yeah, nothing."
Bubbles of glee form in me, popping into burst of excitement. "Thank you!" Eren nods. "Just make sure he eats them all. I don't want any of my baking going to waste."
"Deal." I wave so long to the two of them and head back to the apartment.
I reach the second crossing, when I see a young girl running into the street after her hat. But as she reaches her accessory, a bus approaches, and it's clear contact is inevitable. A second passes and I've already taken her place. The steaming metal presses against my side and then collides with my temple.
Breathe.
Live.
Pain. Yes. . . So much pain.
A voice. It comes and goes, always begging for my return. "Come. . . back. . . to me." To who? Always proclaiming their love. "I love you. . . Please." And always pleading for my forgiveness. "I'm so. . . so sorry. Forgive me." I can't. I don't know who you are or what you did. But I want to. I really want to.
Piano. The tune of a piano wakes me. It awakes me to a world that seems familiar and new all at once.

My name is (f/n) (l/n). I live in the city Sina, and I work as an author for Rose Wall Publishing. I've been long time friends with Eren Jeager, Mikasa Ackerman, and Armin Arlert, who introduced me to Levi Ackerman, Mikasa's (distant) cousin. He's a retired marine and plays the piano professionally. Also, we've been dating for the past five years, but unfortunately. . . I can't remember any of that. Not a single moment we've spent together, and it eats at me, tears at my soul because I see the pain my amnesia causes him.
It's been two days since I've left the hospital and moved into Levi's- our apartment. The oddest thing is, I can recall every hall, scratch, window, article of my clothing and belongings, but I can't remember him. Another oddity that's been happening is the constant mental replay of a song. Over and over, every minute I sing, hum the melodic pattern of a forgotten performer. And when I do Levi stops what he's doing and listens intently, as if it's a spell of paralysis.
Day eight, and still no recollection of any kind. I fold the blankets I've used for my couch-bed, and then grab a book as I shift into a comfortable position. Levi went to bed after his performance at Maria Square Gardens, which ended about midnight, and I've been up another two hours since then.
I've finished my book, cover to cover, Growing Up Female by Erwin Smith. And even though I know I should be getting in my eight hours, I can't seem to sleep. There's a force, drawing me to his sleek piano as I whisper that haunting melody. The city light glows peacefully through the window wall, creating an elegant shine to the apartment.
Fingers brush over the black and white keys, tempted to press and hear the note each sounds. Quietly, I seat myself on the bench. My hands subconsciously find their own positions and with a deep breath in, out, I attempt to play. But I can't find the keys to the song I yearn for; am unable to locate the proper positions; every place I press feels like a mistake. And without warning tears roll down my cheek.
Soft sobs and the occasional whimpers break the silence. Although I can sense my soul cringing, writhing, I continue to play. I continue to hum.
Pale muscle envelopes me, enfolds me softly in warmth. (Shirtless) Levi, dressed in low hanging grey joggers, places his fingers over mine. "Let me guide you," he whispers seductively. I don't respond, only let him take my quiet for a yes. Slowly, he begins to tap the the keys with my fingertips, and soon the notes piece together to form the very song I've been searching for.
All the tension leaves, every ounce of guilt and heartache gone the moment I hear his heartbeat in the symphony. "I fell in love with the mornings," he begins, "how you stumbled out of bed when you first woke up, and how your eyes groaned with exhaustion." My gaze creeps over his defined abdomen, savoring every bit of him, inhaling that sweet scent, like a candy fresh out of the wrapper.
"The way your hands grasped my ebony hair while your lips stole the ends of my sentences. Everyday with you feels like a month of Sunday mornings with white bedsheets and lazy smiles. The same morning I fell in love with the bakery a few blocks away, and the way you asked for one cupcake when you really wanted three. Somewhere in between falling in love with our midnight conversations, exhaled through chilled puffs of winter breathes, and interrupted by coffee stains, and reading the love notes you wrote on my flesh, I realized. . . I am in love with the presence of your words and the feel of your exsistence."
Without thinking, I press my lips to his, twining my fingers into his undercut. A freezing hot seizes my veins, encases them in burning frost as a wave of nostalgia drowns me in pleasurable memories. His tongue asks for entrance, which I grant, and his delicious flavor fills my mouth.
I remember.
I remember it all. Every late night together; each trip to Eren's bakery; the gentle kisses and sweet nothings; not a single second with him is lost.
"Levi," I rasp, taking in a hot breath. "The song. What about the song?" Even with my memories returned, I don't know the significance of the song. With his hands pressed to my temples, he gazes deeply into my eyes, where I find a passionate soul in pools of ice, twinkling with millions of stars. "It's the song I was going to propose to you with." A song he had written himself, put weeks into composing, and slept so little to complete was for our proposal, and I was ungrateful in the belief he had stopped loving me. But it was exactly the opposite.
Again the tears stream, heavy and hot, as I kiss him softly, passionatly, in every way I can think to express my emotions. "I will marry you, Levi. I will."

Also, I'm thinking about throwing an Ereri one shot in here every now and then. Thoughts?