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Eren . . . what?

Liked him? Like . . . friend like, or like like? That was a lot of likes. If Eren meant friends, why would he point it out? It was kind of weird. So surely he meant more than that?

As if reading his mind, Eren clarified.

"I, uh, got attached, I guess. You're nice and helpful, and handsome, and it's really lonely here, and you've just come to mean a lot to me - "

"You're rambling," Levi cut him off. Painful regret echoed in his chest when Eren flinched, and his lower lip trembled a little. Stammering, Levi tried to fix his mistake. "I mean - fuck, sorry, I didn't mean - "

"It's okay," Eren interrupted quietly. The crack in his voice betrayed him. Levi didn't comment on it. "I'm sorry. I came on too strong."

"You didn't - "

"I'm gonna go."

Eren's hand moved to the mouse. Disorienting panic slammed into Levi, and he gripped the edge of his desk. Eren was running away from him again, and it was all his damn fault.

"Wait!"

The brunet froze, startled jade eyes staring into Levi's like a deer caught in headlights. Levi faltered.

"I - "

He cut himself off. He'd never been so unsure of himself, of the words he should use, of how to get his message across, of how to get what he wanted.

" . . . yeah?"

Eren looked ready to bolt.

"I like you, too."

Silence. Surprise etched onto those tan features. Eren exhaling sharply, looking away, and glancing back at the ravenet, eyes a little watery.

"Are you sure?"

Was he sure? Levi knew he liked Eren, but how much?

Eren was cute. He'd always thought that. Eren had soft looking hair that Levi wanted to touch and the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen. He was good at making Levi laugh. He brightened Levi's days when all that had happened was hours of paperwork and boredom. Eren was someone to look forward to talking to.

Eren was also hurt, and even with a job helping people, Levi had never wanted to help someone so badly.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

It was sudden. Levi knew that. It was sudden, and he hadn't really had a chance to iron his thoughts or feelings out, but he didn't feel any sort of looming obligation or sense of foreboding with his confession. If Eren was interested in romance, Levi didn't mind trying out a relationship and seeing how it worked out. Hell, they flirted for a reason; now that he thought about it, Levi was sure that, inevitably, mentions of a relationship would have popped up.

He expected Eren to be happy about it. Why were tears streaking down his cheeks? A little panicked, Levi tried to hide his frown. Had he said something wrong?

"Eren?"

Eren exhaled again, and Levi realized they were attempts at hiding sobs. Soon, Eren was muffling them in his hand, squeezing those pretty eyes shut and causing more tears to fall. At a complete loss, Levi just watched him, jaw dropped slightly. What was he supposed to do? How did one comfort crying people? He'd never been good at this sort of thing.

He didn't end up having to do anything, though. Eren reached forward and angled the camera down, and Levi's breath caught in his throat. Pills, all different sizes and shapes and colors. Pills everywhere, scattered across the desk, some probably on the floor. Eren's shaking hands scooping them up, dropping several. Shoving them all into the same bottle and throwing that bottle across the room with surprising force and aggression, his sobs increasing in frequency and volume. Levi watched this all with eyes stretched wide, a foreign sense of fear tightening his chest.

"Did you - ?"

Eren shook his head violently. "Almost."

Relief overwhelmed the ravenet. He almost said "good," but felt that might be harsh. Instead, he settled on, "I'm glad."

Eren continued to shake with those vicious sobs wracking his frame. There was nothing Levi could say, nothing he could do but watch as those big tears rolled down tan cheeks. What was he supposed to do in this situation?

Thankfully, it wasn't long before Eren spoke again. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered through the tears, his voice dull. "I'm being stupid. I should go."

Was he trying to leave again? Sighing, Levi shook his head. "Stay. I want you to stay."

Eren faltered, finally looking at the screen, eyes wide and rimmed with red. "Are you sure?"

Levi nodded seriously. "I'm sure."

Eren seemed soothed by that, backing down and running a self-conscious hand through his hair. He worried at his lip, and Levi wanted to tell him not to, but soon enough Eren spoke again. "Not to be mean, just . . . don't you have work to do?"

Mild irritation furrowed Levi's brow. He held it back with a sigh. "Stop questioning me. Stay."

Eren tilted his head. The motion was cute despite the red rimming his eyes and the slight pout he still held, like a curious puppy. A small smile appeared on his lips, a tad nervous, and the sight of it had Levi relaxing. The tension in his muscles dissipated at the sign Eren was happy. The words that came out of his mouth, however, had him tensing right back up and a flaming pink rushing to his cheeks.

"No, it's not that. It's . . . you're staring."

Was he staring? Well - yes, he supposed he was - but what else was he supposed to look at? Eren was the nicest thing in the room, a hell of a lot nicer than his paperwork. Shit, that wasn't helping his case. The slowly widening grin on Eren's face made him realize he was still staring, and it had him wondering just how long they'd been there. How long had this entire exchange lasted? And why was he still staring?

Levi, however, was the master of bouncing back. It took tremendous effort and willpower, but he smoothed his features before quirking an eyebrow. "I like to admire you. You're like a work of art."

It was Eren's turn to flush dramatically. A small giggle escaped his lips and he covered his face, shoulders shaking. The sound was light, lifting Levi's spirits, and he reveled in the accomplishment of making Eren laugh. When Eren's hands fell away, though, despite his lingering smile, there were a few tears staining his cheeks, and he rubbed them away.

Levi felt his heart drop again, immense worry cutting through his good mood. "What's wrong?"

Eren shook his head and rubbed a bit aggressively at his eyes. He blinked rapidly as if to discourage any more from falling with a soft sigh. "Nothing, I think," he replied, and he sounded sincere. "I just feel . . . confused."

"Confused?" Levi echoed.

"Just minutes ago, I - I was going to end it all." His voice trembled a little, and he paused for a moment to take a deep breath. "And now here you are, making me so happy despite that. I didn't think I could smile again. Not like this."

That had Levi a bit flustered. Did he really make Eren that happy? It was a little befuddling, thinking he might have so much influence over someone else. Most people just hated him.

"Well . . . I'm glad you're happy," he said dumbly, and a little giggle from Eren was infectious, making him crack a small smile.

"Happy," Eren repeated, and he sounded pleased. Letting out a quiet puff of air that passed as a small sigh, Eren rubbed at his eyes again, and tilted his head at Levi. "You really should get back to work."

Levi's heart sank a little. He didn't want Eren to leave. "I can work with you here," he offered. He knew the danger had passed for now, knew he couldn't hold Eren there if he didn't want to be there, but he still worried.

"No, it's okay," Eren told him. A yawn cut him off, and Levi had to wait for the unsurprising second half of his words. "I'm just sleepy. Though . . . "

He looked a little shy now, rubbing at the base of his neck. It was cute, Levi found himself noting, before he asked, "What is it?"

"Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Levi found himself cracking a small smile. "Absolutely."

.-.-.-.-.

Days came and went. Every day was a wild trip - some days, Eren's heart throbbed with loneliness, and the pills in his cabinet were so tempting he craved them, so needy he even popped a few (just to sleep, he promised himself, and of course he didn't tell Levi about it). Other days, his chest was full of warm fuzziness, his eyes filled with hearts as he openly just . . . stared at the beautiful man on his laptop screen, listened to the pleasant baritone as he talked.

Sometimes there was the dull beige backdrop of an office, and other times he caught glimpses of a dark navy blue and pillows propped up, presumably Levi's bedroom. He had no issue talking to Eren wherever he was, and it both embarrassed and slightly worried him. He tried not to abuse the privilege to badly but, at Levi's urging, promised he would never hold back when he needed to call.

Eren pillowed his head on his arms and sighed moodily into them. Despite both of their wishes, Levi was unreachable that day, and while it wasn't a bad day emotionally, it was unbearably boring without him around. He had grown accustomed to human contact now. Eren wasn't upset, really; Levi's reason for his unavailability was extremely valid, as he had a multi-person funeral to attend to. More than anything, though, he worried about whether he would be okay through that.

Almost as if on cue - the duo had an uncanny knack for that - his phone rang. Letting out a noise of both surprise and excitement, he fumbled for the device.

They had exchanged numbers shortly after getting together, during a rather cutely naive conversation. Apparently, Levi hadn't been in a relationship for a long while, and awkwardly asked if trading numbers was a thing couples did. Eren found the shyness he showed rather endearing, and they'd shared a couple of dumb texts during their video call. Their primary method of contact was still Skype, though, so he was rather befuddled as to why Levi would call.

Finally, he answered the call, holding the phone to his ear.

"Hi," he greeted breathlessly. There was a moment of quiet static, and then a crackly, weary sigh.

"Hey," Levi answered. He sounded tired, and Eren's heart twinged sympathetically. "Sorry if I startled you. I'm on my way back home, so no Wi-Fi."

"Calling and driving?" Eren asked, a little concerned, though he felt a tad guilty to scold. It was the end of the day now, after all, and they had just started talking.

"I can multitask," Levi reassured him. Another staticky puff, a quiet sigh. "Just been a hard day. How are you?"

"I can imagine." Eren nodded sympathetically, though Levi couldn't see it.

He could only imagine, really. Eren had only ever been to one funeral - that of his father's, whom he had always had a fucked up relationship with. But Levi had been through so many deaths, so many funerals, both people he had just met and people he had known for years. It wasn't something he talked about, but it was something Eren knew was inescapable with a job like his. How many of them had just been single funerals? How many had been several corpses lined up in a row, like this one? What was it like, those funerals? What was it like to see all those caskets, to know everyone that was inside them, to face their families?

Eren badly wanted to ask, but shook his head against it. "I'm fine," he continued, just remembering Levi had asked the question. "It's been slow. It's stupid, but I missed you."

"It's cute," Levi said, and instantly, Eren felt his cheeks heat.

"It is not cute!" he squeaked indignantly. "I'm a grown ass man! I'm not cute."

"Well I'm a growner asser man, and I say you are."

Eren spluttered, and on the other end, Levi chuckled quietly. Eren would be lying if he said it didn't warm his heart. That laugh was one of his favorite sounds in the entire world. They both faded into a contented silence, and Eren let out a contented little hum. Usually, he hated the quiet, but when Levi was there . . . well, it was all right.

He always felt guilty, like he was using Levi, holding him down with the threat of suicide. After his childhood, he'd sworn to himself he'd never be selfish like his father, and now it felt like he was doing just that. But, as Levi regularly reminded him when he apologized for it, Eren couldn't help his situation, or how hard it made things. Even the happiest people would be driven to do horrible things to themselves, driven mad by the darkness.

This isn't the real you, he told Eren, and he wondered how Levi could be so sure. Still, it helped. And, when he worried that Levi only stayed with him out of fear, Levi was quick to remind him that he didn't know of Eren's plan until after they both confessed.

Levi always knew the right things to say. Perhaps it came with years of practice. Eren tried not to think about it.

"Hey . . . "

Levi sounded unsure of himself. "Hm?"

There was a pause, and then the man spoke again. "I'm just . . . I don't know. I want to tell you about something when I get home. I mean, if that's all right."

Curiosity peeked its dangerous head out from the closet. "Well, I don't see why it wouldn't be," Eren said, tilting his head. "What is it?"

"Just - things." Levi had never sounded so hesitant before. "Shit's been eating at me all day. I don't know," he said again. "It's not really important, I guess. Or maybe it is? I haven't mentioned it before. Nobody ever knew that didn't need to know. I don't talk about it."

Understanding dawned on Eren's face, and mild anxiety came with it. He remembered Hanji's words clear as day. He lost his entire team. His uncle and siblings.

"Is it . . . about that squad you lost?"

He expected shock, distress, even anger from Levi, but to his surprise, the man expressed none of it.

"I suppose Hanji told you, then?"

"Not much," Eren said quickly, feeling more than a little guilty. "Just that it happened."

Another burst of static. Levi was sighing a lot today. "There's more to it. I wouldn't say a lot more, but, well . . . more."

Eren didn't know what to say to that. There were words, apologies, questions, but he couldn't formulate anything coherent with them. Instead, he sat there dumbly, wishing he knew and that the shame constricting his lungs would at least give a little.

"Anyways, I'm getting close to town. I'll call you later."

Eren didn't get the chance to say anything before the line went dead. Helplessly, he stared at the end call screen, and the guilt squeezed harder, wrapping around his heart like a vice. He hadn't gotten a word in edgewise. He hadn't told Levi he loved him before they hung up. He hadn't even apologized. He'd simply sat there, leaving Levi with whatever poisonous thoughts were in his head, whatever imagery had been pestering him all day . . .

Three thousand miles away, Levi let his head fall back against the seat as he approached a red light. He shouldn't have brought it up. What was he thinking? He was a veteran, a soldier, an officer of the law. He could handle a few painful memories - god knew he dealt with enough of them. He didn't need to project them on everyone else. They didn't need to deal with that.

A car honked behind him and he flinched, taking his foot off the brake and moving through the intersection.