Unspoken Norms | Levi Ackerman ✔️

Chp 16 ~ Tch, Pathetic

Fun Fact: If Levi was an Olympian, the type of sport he'd compete in is weightlifting. 

Also I had to change the relationship between Petra and Levi... Sorry! Note this is only to help the storyline – I truly believe their relationship in AOT was genuine. They were great companions!

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Levi's POV

(Y/N) and Levi. Those three words echoed in my head as I ascended the bus's steps, hands shoved in the pockets of my charcoal-black hoodie. Was it fate that brought us together?

I slid into the seventh row, claiming the seat beside the window. (Y/N) sat a respectful distance away, giving our shoulders at least a twenty centimetres gap. I kept to myself as well, propping an elbow on the sill to support my chin. My gaze drifted out the window, trying to concentrate on something else other than (Y/N)'s reflection.

As soon as the bus launched to life, I almost failed to notice the hand sneaking in my peripheral vision to tap (Y/N)'s shoulder. I continued looking at the glass, unwilling to break my apathetic façade.

A string of whispers, the unclicking of a seatbelt and a thud transformed (Y/N) into Petra Ral. I snapped an eye in the girl's direction, but that was all it took to trigger conversation.

"Oh Levi! How are you? We haven't talked in ages!" Petra exclaimed happily, amber gaze brimming with pleasant surprise. As if she didn't intentionally ask (Y/N) to swap seats.

What a pathetic mess.

I leaned farther towards the window, feeling (Y/N)'s gaze on me from the seat behind, watching and hearing our exchange. Which wasn't much of one.

For the majority of the trip, I merely sat there and gazed out the window while Petra talked my ear off. I was honestly shocked at the number of things she had to say—usually the girl only chatted when necessary. And right now it was not necessary at all.

"...and yea, that's my hobby. Do you have any? Like going to the gym, for example? Weightlifting maybe? You look too toned to not have gone to the gym," Petra prodded inquisitively. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, somewhat abashed.

I could've sworn even (Y/N) choked on that comment.

"Unless you do martial arts? Or some sort of sport?" the blonde girl continued, and finally, I turned my head to her for the first time. I was done with this shit.

"Can you stop talking? I have a headache." Each word I bit out was colder than the last. Harsh like the screeching of the bus's tyres. I would've threatened her or outright sworn at her, but that kind of coarse speech was saved for people like Riverko.

I caught a glimpse of Petra's shocked expression before resuming my observation out the window. Well that settles it. Only that I celebrated too quickly.

"Levi... you're so dour. I like it," purred the golden-haired girl, the sensuality in her voice making me stiffen the very slightest. "You do know that I have a crush on you, right?"

I have no idea. I wasn't that observant. Mostly I just didn't care.

"Do you—"

"No."

Petra looked surprised again. "You don't even know what I'm going to say."

Does it look like I care?

Irritation coiled in my gut, but I clamped it down. Not yet. To busy myself, I curled a drawstring around my finger, winding and unwinding it in repeated circles. Eyes wandering beyond the window, I zoned out of Petra's conversation with herself, catching her last words.

"So do you like..." No one cares.

***

Your POV

I watched the two trade conversation, in which Levi only uttered nine words. 'Can you stop talking? I have a headache' and 'No'. I couldn't ever imagine the raven-haired boy being talkative.

Seated beside the girl with dark dreadlocks, a friend of Blondie's (yes, that was her nickname), I peered subtly at Levi. Blondie kept asking him questions even though he never responded.

What a one-sided exchange, I thought, eyes flicking to the golden-haired student. Resentment surged through me as I recalled those spiteful glares and remarks I received from the girl—often at assemblies or the lockers. Unfortunately, I had realised that Blondie's locker was one down from mine, so every day when I went to deposit items, I would doublecheck she wasn't there.

Even worse, she'd sometimes hang out with Jarrod and the popular group; if I ever saw them together, I would turn the other direction. Because who knew what will happen if they joined forces to gang up on me.

"Is it (Y/N)?" It took me several moments to locate the voice's owner, whom sat next to me. Blondie's friend. She wore a camo-patterned jacket over a white shirt, dark plaits left unbound to slither around her shoulders. Her uptilted eyes caught my attention the most, framed by thick lashes that curled aesthetically.

I replied with a hasty "Oh yes! And you are?" which I had to admit didn't sound as pleasing as I thought it would be.

"Nyxande. Most people just call me Nyx." I nodded, mind processing reality. Honestly, I was surprised that this girl even noticed me; let alone start an actual conversation. But it did take her two hours to begin one.

Before I knew it, we were almost at the campsite. I had forgotten about the entire trip—spying on Blondie and Levi whilst chatting with Nyx kept me busy.

And as the bus pulled into a wooden-fenced dirt clearing environed by tall pines, I felt the familiarity of unease graze my stomach. We're here.

One week. It wasn't the first day of school—I could survive this time.