The Intern

Chapter 60 (last chapter)

JUST TO NOTE: THIS CHAPTER TAKES PLACE ONE YEAR LATER
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Approximately one year later...

Levi

"You're gonna be late, kid."

I muttered the words around an amused smirk and leaned into the doorframe, my eyes lingering on Eren's hips as he stretched up to tape a photo onto the wall. His red shirt lifted slightly with the movement, and revealed the soft tan skin that my lips had teased just hours ago. And yet somehow I was already forgetting the taste of it, as if it had been days or weeks since I'd felt him last. And I was damn near desperate for a reminder now; to the point that I was almost willing to forgo the plans I had to get it.

But I knew I couldn't.

As tempting as Eren's body was, I wasn't about to let anything get in the way now.

Not even myself.

"I won't be that late. It's not like they had a set time to start, anyway. They said around five-ish." Eren glanced over his shoulder and grinned at me before snatching another photo up from the dresser. "Besides, I wanted to hang these up before tonight. Otherwise they're just gonna pile up on me."

More stretching.

Damn, that brat had a nice ass.

"You're going to take more tonight?" I asked, pushing away from the door and stepping into the room. The entire half of one wall was nothing but a collage of landscapes and faces; something he had been building for the past year since I'd given him the room.

"Well, everyone's going to be there. And I want to have more than just scenery on the walls." Eren shrugged and fiddled with the position of one of the photos, trying to line it up with the rest. "You told me to make it my own, right?"

"Yea, I did," I agreed, my attention lingering on the images that I knew all too well at this point. Either because they were a fond memory, or because I'd spent hours in this room admiring them.

I'd given it to him shortly after he had moved into the apartment with me. The room had been used for nothing more than storage before that; countless trinkets and shit I had no use for piled up into every corner. Things that I had planned to throw away long ago, but never had a good reason to. Not until him. And then suddenly none of that crap mattered anymore.

It was just taking up space.

Space I knew he could use.

And so I gave it to him.

Not that I expected him to know why at the time. Even though he knew I had a room of my own, I was willing to bet that he didn't understand the whole reason behind it. My mother's room had always been something special to me and there was no denying that, but it wasn't just because it reminded me of her. It was because it was the one place where I could feel safe, regardless of what happened. Even if the entire world went to shit around me, I would have that room to escape to. Surrounded by memories of her, and what it had been like to have a normal life.

And I needed that. Even now, when things were comfortable and happy, there were still days when I needed that room.

A place to run to. A place to settle my mind.

And I knew he needed that, too.

Even if he wasn't willing to admit it just yet. And after a year, I was beginning to think that he never would. But I wasn't going to push him into trying. I knew he had to heal at his own pace, and I wouldn't force it any faster than that. Even if I wanted to know what was hiding in that head of his. And I did. Because he hadn't talked about his parents in months, and I was pretty damn sure that it wasn't because he had forgotten them or what had happened. But he wouldn't talk about it, even after the few times that I had asked.