Love You More (Levi/Eren One Shot)

Final

Year 0 - Age 10

When I was younger, I lived with my parents. Grisha and Carla were the best parents I could have asked for. Mom was nice and even though she would get upset when I came home beaten and battered every day, she never raised her voice at me. Dad was a doctor and constantly away for months at a time. But when he came home, he always took me to fun places. Sometimes, we'd go watch a movie or other times we would head to the park and play catch. Afterward, we'd go out to eat and top everything off with ice cream. Mom would always wait for us outside on the porch in the evening, and we would all have dinner together before dad had to leave again the next morning. But, that all changed when I got older. My tenth birthday started out well. Mom and dad threw a grand party for me. All my friends were there from Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, to even Jean and Marco or Ymir and Krista. It was one of the best birthdays I'd ever had.

But then, he came. I knew he existed for a portion of my life; Zeke, my father's first son to a different mother. I think that he was jealous of what I had. From what I knew, Dina, who married my father first had always been physically weak. She suffered from illness so often that the moment she'd recovered from one, another would take its place. In spite of that, Dina had spirit undefined by any bounds. I think that's what made her Zeke's hero. Yet, all the greatest people meet tragic ends.

Dina passed away from pneumonia leaving my father and Zeke alone. Zeke became a rebel's child, and then he disappeared. Once, father told me that Zeke blamed him for his mother's death. I mean, Grisha was a doctor and even so, he let his patient, his wife, and Zeke's mother die.

That day, we were simply throwing balloons around. All kids who threw balloons knew the insignificant joy it had. It was almost a tradition.

But then, out of nowhere, the first bullet rang.

None of my friends had been hurt, and I was left unscathed. But when I opened my eyes and looked up, my parents lay dead on the ground. Above them was Zeke, hair a mess and a sadistic grin plastered on crusty lips. His goal had been fulfilled though. He ran away leaving me alone.

They never caught Zeke. Never knew where the boy had gone. But the truth remained: my parents were dead.

After everything happened, I was taken to an orphanage. I hated everyone there. Why did it have to happen to me? I had nothing against the other children, but they didn't know. They were born into this world alone. But for me? I had people who loved me. I'm not waiting for someone to take me to a new home. I wanted my old life back. I didn't want new parents.

The kids made fun of my mom and dad. They made fun of me and I hated it. I grew over and over. I couldn't take it anymore. My parents didn't die so they could be insulted like this. Deep down, I wanted to do it. I wanted to beat up the kids black and blue until their blood ran deep into the earth around them while I stood over them.

It was a rainy morning. Most of the kids were still sleeping when the downpour came. Droplets splattered on old window panes, painting clear over a chipped wooden canvas of a building. I tiptoed into the kitchen using the moon trying to shine through the storm clouds as my guide. By the sink, I pulled out the second drawer from the top. Silverware laid nestled in a tray, sorted, neat, and clean. But my eyes landed on a single knife. I slipped its wooden grip into my hand, metal blade glinting under the light. Kill them. I need to rid them of this world.

"Oi! What do you think you're doing, brat?"

I gasped and dropped the knife. I turned around wide-eyed to see a scary man. He was lean and small, but his eyes were like a tiger. He watched every single movement I did, unmoving as he stared me down. Something about him made me forget what I was doing. His raven fringe hung over those predatory eyes, eyes the color of murky water yet blue like a shimmering sky. Sometimes, I think it's those eyes that captivated me on that rainy morning.