Swing Life Away [Ereri/Riren]

Unsteady - Part 2

A few long weeks passed. Quickly, Eren had come around and apologized to Levi for snapping and being so harsh, but underlying in his apology, Levi could feel he'd meant what he'd said. He felt it was the truth, and that tore at Levi more than anything.

So he did absolutely everything he could for Eren. He made sure to always have dinner ready when he got home from work and always asked how his day went. It wasn't that he'd never done these things before, but he started putting more heart into it. Still, every day Eren had the same answer when prompted about the flavor a meal or how his day went - "It was fine."

He asked about his clients, and though Levi knew there was only a certain, very limited amount he could disclose, he was always more than happy to listen and constantly searched Eren's eyes, his manor of speaking, his overall demeanor for anything he wasn't saying out loud or was even trying to keep hidden.

The days seemed to get better after the first week, but it was only about another before the improvement ceased. Eren was stuck in a rut of sorts - sleeping less, eating less, burying himself in paperwork and then distracting himself with a movie or something else until he fell asleep on the couch, only to be woken by Levi, make it up the stairs and into the bedroom, and hardly sleep for the rest of the night.

The most profound change of all, though, in Levi's eyes, was his lack of enthusiasm in things he used to truly enjoy. He rarely greeted Levi with a smile in the mornings anymore, and though there was still a great amount of love and tenderness in his touch and kisses, they still lacked, almost as if he didn't enjoy it as much anymore. He kept to himself more often, speaking less and mostly only speaking when spoken to.

Levi missed that bright, loving, full-of-life shine in those big green eyes. In many ways, Eren didn't feel so much like Eren anymore.

Depression.

He wanted to deny it with every fiber of his being, but Levi knew. Lynne's death was what pulled his trigger - both her own depression and suicide on top of the fact that Eren never ceased blaming himself for letting her down.

From the beginning of his career - even back to his days in college - Levi was worried that it might have posed a risk of triggering Eren's own mental instabilities, but as strong as Eren was, he proved him wrong every day, and Levi couldn't have been more proud of him. In fact, he might've said all of the studying and new knowledge about it served to help Eren manage himself as opposed to trigger him. Until now, at least...

He needed to know more. Since meeting him, Eren had been more prone to his anxiety than his depression and over the years, Levi learned to help him deal with it. His depression was mild, thankfully, but now that it had seemed to come back in full swing, Levi was reeling for ways to help him. If he was going to be there for him (and of course he was; he didn't wear the silver band on his left ring finger for show), he would need to understand it better. And the only way to do that was to speak to the one person who had been there the last time he knew of it getting so bad.

Levi shuffled up the walk, hands hidden away in the pockets of his coat as a chilled February breeze pushed past, threatening snow. It had only been a few weeks since seeing this house, but it felt odd to be making the trip up to the door without another hand to hold.

He rang the bell and immediately following came the rough barking of the German Shepherd from the other side of the thick wooden door. A few seconds later, it swung open to reveal a woman with graying hair, shushing the canine who, as soon as he laid eyes on Levi, ceased barking and instead commenced wagging his tail.

"Hello, Levi," Carla said, subtle wrinkles manifesting in her cheeks as her lips spread out into her classic warm smile. "Come on in," she invited, tugging the dog back.