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“I’m a witch.”
The words fall quick and clumsy out of Eren’s mouth, and draw Levi up short. He pauses, his entire body going still to the point that the porcelain of his tea cup rests right agains the meat of his lip without him tasting any of the tea it holds.
“I’m a witch,” Eren reiterates, but this time his voice comes out steadier, more certain. Calmer, even. Like he thought long and hard about those three words. Like they have some sort of weight to them that Levi himself can’t discern.
He sips his tea, and Eren fidgets across he table. Very slowly, Levi sets the cup back in its saucer, twisting it in its resting place until the handle is pointed in a direction he deems necessary. He stares at the tea, at the way the liquid laps at the edges of the cup, before he takes an even breath and lifts his eyes to Eren’s face.
The calm from before is gone. He’s back to looking all the nervous wreck he was only a few minutes before.
(“I just—there’s something I have to—we need to talk about this, and I need to—fuck.”)
“What?” There’s a flare of anger to Levi’s otherwise nonplussed reaction, and he doesn’t even realize that he is angry until the sound of it reverberates back into his own ears.
He’s angry.
Actually, he’s fucking pissed.
Eren’s been acting strange for days. Being skittish, laughing awkwardly, avoiding eye contact, insisting he’s fine and then making quick exits whenever Levi worked up the nerve to ask what the fuck was wrong with him. And it’s been keeping Levi on edge. He’s been sleeping less, he’s been distracted at work, and he’s…
He’d been terrified that It had finally happened. That when Eren had sent him a text that morning saying, “We need to talk,” that he had finally come to his fucking senses and realized that Levi didn’t deserve him. That there was finally a reason to break things off between them.
And Levi has been sick with that idea in his head all day. Literally sick. Had snapped at an intern who asked if he was feeling okay, because he was seconds away from cradling his trash can at his desk, sure he was going to vomit the contents of his entire fucking chest cavity at any second.
But the worst thing, the absolute worst thing, had been how shocked he’d felt. How utterly and honestly surprised he’d been by the revelation that Eren was most likely done with him. There’s been that fear, that insecurity, that annoying little ticking clock at the back of his brain, counting down every second from the moment Eren smiled at him under a bus stop awning, hair damp with rain. Ever since then, it’s been borrowed time, and Levi doesn’t know where, along the way, he lost sight of that. Where the hardened skin of cynicism and doubt and fucking reality had splintered and allowed him to be… Vulnerable.
How the fuck had that even happened?
And now, now… God, Levi doesn’t even know what the fuck is happening. Is Eren taking the easy way out? Make himself appear crazy and delusional so that Levi will be the one who ends things? Who walks away? Give Eren the fucking clear conscience of not being the reason this thing between them ended?
He almost does. Almost pushes out of his chair and stalks out, because fuck this. Fuck Eren for putting Levi through the ringer this last week, making him lose sleep and give in to his anxieties and insecurities, and for what? This? Some fucked up way to end things? Or maybe (and this is a fucking stretch) some kind of sick practical joke?
“I’m a witch.” This time it’s quieter. An admission. A secret. Eren’s hands are gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles are white, and… Levi is waiting for the punchline here. Is waiting for anything, at this point, to make sense of what Eren is saying, but… It doesn’t come.
Eren stares at him, and Levi stares back, and there isn’t even the hint of anything deceiving or joking in Eren’s eyes. Nerves, maybe. Even fear. But also honest sincerity.
Maybe it’s the secret third option. Maybe Eren really is delusional and Levi had just somehow never realized it until now.
“Like… A Wiccan?” If Eren is going to seem so fucking resolute in this, maybe Levi can try to understand. Eren’s never exactly been good at saying exactly what he means. And he’s pretty sure Wiccans are a thing. “Fucking herbal remedies and crystals and shit?” A thing Levi doesn’t know anything about, but that sounds vaguely right.
Come to think of it, Eren does own an alarming amount of crystals and gemstones. They hang in a myriad of homemade wind chimes near the windows and in every archway. They sit in bowls and are strung in complex patterns across the wall like art fixtures. Sure, he’d thought it was a little fucking weird, but Eren is a little fucking weird and his apartment had always been a little… Strange. But fitting. Eren seemed to belong in this space, even if Levi didn’t necessarily understand his decorating choices.
“What?” Eren straightens, blinking rapidly. “No, I—well, first off, I don’ think that really has anything to do with being a Wiccan, that’s more—but that’s not important, what—I mean those are things that—I do use crystals and herbal remedies, but—” Eren lets out a frustrated groan, dropping his face in his hands as if Levi had somehow defeated him.
“So what, then?” Levi can feel his patience with this whole situation wearing thin. If Eren is going to keep this up, the least he could fucking do is explain what he means. “Like Harry Potter?” A wry smile twists Levi’s lips as he mimes waving a wand. “Wingardium leviosa.”
The glare that Eren sends him when he lifts his head lets Levi know that he’s hardly amused. Well, what the fuck does he expect Levi to do? At least he’s fucking trying here!
He should have left. He should have just fucking left, this is ridiculous, but—
Leaving Eren. Levi’s heart clenches painfully.
“I don’t have a wand.” He sounds vaguely exhausted by the assumption. “Why is this so hard?” The question comes out on a whisper, more to Eren himself than to Levi, and Levi regards his boyfriend carefully.
Eren is sincerely struggling with… Well, whatever this is, exactly. Levi’s sure he would know what he was dealing with if Eren would explain it, but he seems incapable for whatever reason. Levi glances sideways, drums his fingers against the tabletop, and then circles his gaze back to Eren.
“Show me, then.” Levi presents his palm in Eren’s direction before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. After all, if Eren is a “witch” then he has to be able to do something, right? If he insists on this train of thought, then he better be prepared for Levi to ask for some fucking proof.
“What?” Eren’s eyes widen like he wasn’t quite expecting that.
Good, Levi thinks, smugly. The sooner Eren can fess up to not being able to do jack shit, the sooner this stupid game can be over. The sooner they can, hopefully, get to the bottom of whatever it is that made Eren come up with such a ridiculous confession. What is he fucking hiding behind all of this?
“Well, if you’re a witch, I assume you have magic,” Levi states. “So show me.” Levi doesn’t grin, but his eyes and voice are full of enough mocking derision to compensate. He quirks an eyebrow in challenge.
“It’s not—” Eren sits up straighter, grabbing a fistful of hair. “This isn’t a movie or a TV show, you know. It’s not like I point my finger and sparks fly out, or-or I say some funny words or something,” Eren explains, eyes darting around wildly. If Levi was entertaining this idea to any extent, he would think asking a witch to perform magic is like asking someone who speaks a second language to just speak it. No direction whatsoever, and it usually ends in this kind of floundering.
However, Levi is still very much on the side of this is fucking horse shit, so he dismisses the thought almost as fast as it occurs.
A moment passes.
And then another one.
Levi decides that maybe he really should leave. Or at least threaten to.
He braces his hand against the edge of the table, preparing to push back, when Eren says, “Okay.” He sounds much more determined than he had, and as Levi’s eyes flicker up to him, he watches Eren take a deep, settling breath. He might look and sound significantly less flustered, but Levi can see the nervous tremors in his hands as he reaches across the table and presses three fingers to Levi’s mostly untouched cup of tea where it still rests in its saucer.
Levi’s impassive stare turns unimpressed, not that Eren is looking at him to see it. He stares resolutely at Levi’s cup, almost as if he’s fallen into a staring contest with it.
He waits for something to happen, but Eren doesn’t so much as mutter any gibberish or do any funny hand movements. When he extracts his fingers not even a minute later, Levi already has a snide comment resting on his lips that quickly dies when he sees the thin curl of steam coming from inside his cup.
His tea is hot.
Levi stares down at the cup, mouth parted in speechlessness. He tentatively touches his own fingers to the porcelain, surprised by how newly warm it is, as if the water in the cup had just been poured from a kettle moments ago and not a half hour earlier (as he knows it was).
“It’s little things.” Eren’s voice is small, insecure—scared. “I mean, there are big things, too, but I—I mostly stick to the little ones. Heating a cup of tea, never burning a batch of cookies, making a soup that cures the common cold…”
Those don’t sound like little things to Levi.
“Can you do anything outside the kitchen?” He asks sardonically, unsure where the question even comes from considering he’s still staring at his steaming cup of tea in fascination and maybe even horror.
His tea is hot.
His tea is hot, and Eren somehow made it that way.
“Duh.”
Levi finally glances up and is surprised at the small smile suddenly playing across Eren’s lips. His eyes still let Levi know that he’s scared, but he at least seems more sure of himself as he reaches for one of the many candles clustered on the kitchen table.
Eren has far too many candles. Levi has always thought so. He has them in every color, width, and height, nestled on any surface that can hold them. He’s particularly fond of small mirrors, like the pearl colored one he’s just picked up had been resting on.
Levi hates candles. The smells are too pungent, the wax too messy, and he’s home so rarely that it would be just his luck that he left one burning and lost all of his belongings to the resulting fire. And although he knows Eren burns his collection of candles, from their blackened wicks and diminishing stature and the telltale droplets that cling to their sides, and from seeing them burning with his own two eyes, the bases and the objects that hold them are always, without fail, spotless. There are never pools of wax to distort the candles original shape, almost as if Eren painstakingly removes every bit of wax at the end of the day.
Or, perhaps, used magic to do it for him.
Levi watches as Eren regards the candle, eyes flickering over towards him. He seems nervous again—anxious, even. Like he’s waiting for something.
“Sorry,” he mutters, twisting the candle about in his palm. It’s one of the thicker ones, the edges ribbed so that it looks like a Roman column. “There’s just so many ways to do this.”
Do what? Levi wants to ask, just as Eren pinches the wick of the candle between his thumb and forefinger near the meat of the candle, and then drags upwards and away from it. As if he coaxed it from the candle itself, a flame appears in the wake up Eren’s fingers.
It looks like any old flame. Like Eren had put it there with a match or a lighter, and not with his own touch.
Levi feels a trill through his entire body.
Magic.
He’s pretty sure his mouth is hanging open, but he can’t seem to remember how to close it.
Eren glances at him, still looking shy despite the fact that he just made fire with his fingers, and then waves his open palm over the flame.
It disappears.
He repeats the motion.
The flame is back.
On the third pass, the flame predictably goes out again, and Levi thinks he might pass out right along with it.
It’s not a joke.
Then Eren locks eyes with Levi, leaning close to the candle as if he might tell it a secret, or give it a kiss. His eyes flutter nearly shut, and he blows through pursed lips, and Levi feels like he’s watching a candle be blown out in reverse.
Holy fucking shit.
Eren has magic.
“I guess that’s kind of the easiest way to show you,” Eren mumbles, shrugging like a self-conscious child asking for their artwork to be hung on the fridge. His cheeks are red, and he’s dropped his gaze from Levi’s, fumbling his hands together as he puts the now-lit candle back in its place. Levi follows the flame with his eyes, as if he still can’t believe it’s there, even after watching Eren conjure it out of nowhere again and again and again.
Eren is a witch.
“I’ve never really…” Eren’s words fade, and even if Levi can’t see him, he imagines the shrug that would punctuate the end of it. “When I told Mikasa, she just sort of… Accepted it. She never really asked me to show her how it worked, or anything, so I haven’t… I don’t really practice in front of people, for obvious reasons, unless I think I can get away with something without them realizing that what I’m doing shouldn’t be happening.”
He’s rambling.
“And she’s the only person I’ve ever told—I mean, my mom knows, but my mom taught me everything I know, so there’s that, so I’ve never… I’ve never…”
He’s never shown his magic to anyone.
Levi is the first person to actually see it.
“Why?” He asks, finding it hard to tear his eyes away from the flame of the candle and the way it flickers and dances.
It really just looks like an ordinary flame, but the fact that Levi knows that it’s not is what makes it so fucking mesmerizing.
“Huh?”
“Why did you tell me?”
If it’s such a big secret that Levi is now only one of two people to know (presumably—there’s a chance that Eren just used Mikasa as an example, and perhaps he’s told others and no one has ever asked for proof, but he finds that a little hard to believe), he can’t help but wonder why. Why him, of all people? Out of everyone Eren knows, Levi is the most recent addition to his life. He certainly hasn’t had the time to build the sort of trust relaying this sort of secret requires… Right?
He knows that he trusts Eren, as much as an uphill battle that it was to get there, but even then that trust is tenuous and he’s not sure that it wouldn’t break under the proper strain. And if that’s how he feels, not having any sort of secrets of this calibre, he can’t imagine what kind of fear must come in telling someone something like this.
Does Eren really trust him that much?
There’s hardly a pause between Levi’s question and Eren’s answer. There’s no added hesitation, no dramatic build.
Levi asks his question, Eren hears it, and Eren says, “Because I love you.”
Levi’s eyes snap away from the candle immediately, finding that Eren himself has looked away, hand cupped around his own chin. He looks far away, the candlelight playing off the line of his profile in a way that makes Levi’s breath ache in his throat.
“And I realized it was unfair to ask you to love someone you didn’t really, truly know.”
Does Levi not know Eren now, because of this?
No. He doesn’t think that’s true. Eren might be a… A witch, but that doesn’t mean he’s not Eren as a result. After all, he’s been a witch this whole time, and Levi’s just been ignorant of it. He probably still did magic when Levi wasn’t around, or wasn’t looking, and while he may have been actively hiding that part of himself from Levi, it’s not like it changes him inherently as a person. It’s not like it changes the way Levi feels about—
Fear grips Levi’s heart, fast and sudden, and he feels like he might throw the organ up onto the table between them.
“This is real, right?” His voice comes out hoarse, and he wants to swallow the words back up as soon as they’re out. He needs to know, but at the same time, he never wants to hear the answer.
Eren stares back at him, face twisted into a mixture of surprise and confusion.
“The way I feel about you,” Levi clarifies, swallowing heavily as his hand clenches into a fist where it’s resting on the table. “You didn’t—” make me feel this way, right? Levi can’t even finish the question.
Is that all these feelings are? The whims of a witch?
Eren’s expression flickers into shock, then horror, and then resigns itself into a sad mask. The question had surprised him, clearly, but now he looks like he’s been waiting for it this whole time.
Like he’s been expecting it from the very beginning.
“No.” Levi’s not sure he’s ever heard one word sound so desperate.
Believe me, it seems to also say. Trust me.
“I… I have used magic on you, Levi, I won’t lie about that. But never that kind of magic.” Eren shakes his head, his voice wobbly as if he’s near tears. “Not once.”
He could be lying. But then again, if he’d wanted to keep up the charade, why would he have told Levi he was a witch at all? Clearly Levi had been perfectly blind to it. Eren had no reason to tell him.
And he had.
Perhaps this is the test that will break the trust Levi has crafted for Eren so, so carefully.
Perhaps it’s stronger than he thinks.
“What kind of magic, then?” Levi asks, tapping his finger against the table so softly that it barely makes a sound. “What kind of magic did you use on me, if not that kind?”
“Oh.” Eren blinks at him, eyes wide, and Levi wonders how he’s the one who seems to keep catching Eren by surprise. “Um.” He musses the back of his hair, the way he does when he’s nervous. “N-nothing bad, I promise. The biggest thing was probably a protection spell,” he admits, cheeks heating with a blush, like he’s telling Levi something worth being embarrassed over. “Sometimes I do things to help you sleep, o-or take away nightmares. I heat up your tea a lot, I don’t know how I kept getting away with it, and sometimes I’ll take away some of the stiffness or pain you feel. Oh! Headaches, too, I usually take those away…” Eren fidgets, face flushing more significantly, and he looks away. “And I might use a little when, uh. When we have sex.”
He’s so fucking embarrassed, it’s adorable. Levi almost cracks a smile. Maybe he would, if he wasn’t so busy sifting through everything Eren had just told him.
Well, first things first…
“What kind of protection charm?”
Once again, Eren seems put off-balance by Levi’s questioning. It’s like he didn’t expect him to have fucking questions, or—
Or maybe like he wasn’t expecting Levi to stick around long enough to ask any.
Without a word, Eren reaches across the table and hooks a finger through the simple leather bracelet secured around Levi’s wrist. It’s thin and unobtrusive—just a few leather cords braided and knotted together, dotted with a single bead near the end. It’s twisted together just enough to look like it was actually made and less like Levi just randomly tied some leather straps around his wrist.
(“I made this for you,” Eren had said, voice shy, as he carefully tied the bracelet around Levi’s wrist before he could protest.)
It’s such a simple thing, one that Eren had given him, that Levi only really takes it off to bathe and to sleep. Putting it on in the morning has become ritual. The leather has turned so worn and soft from the oils in Levi’s skin that he hardly feels it there anymore. It’s become as much a part of his life as, well, Eren himself.
“It just… Keeps you safe, I suppose. Mostly from random acts of fate, like getting struck by lightning or hit by a cab, something like that.” Eren gives the bracelet a gentle tug. “—and oh! Other witches, of course.”
Of course.
Like anything about this situation deserves a fucking of course tacked onto it, like it’s obvious.
“Other witches?” Levi frowns, even as Eren withdraws his hand just enough to settle it over Levi’s.
(Levi lets him.)
Naturally, it makes sense. Eren had even said that his mom taught him everything he knows, so clearly she is also a witch, so it makes sense that there would be more out there, it’s just.
Fuck this is a lot.
Levi doesn’t know if he has the mental capacity to take all of this in at once. How much information does he have to swallow before his brain decides it’s too much and he has a sudden break from reality?
Eren is quiet for a few moments, head dipped enough that his hair falls across his eyes and bars them from Levi’s view. He traces gentle, circular patterns on the back of Levi’s hand, and Levi can’t help wonder if it’s really random or if it means something.
“Yes,” he responds, and despite being a single word answer, it sounds carefully chosen. “I mean, what did you think? That my family is the only magical one out there?” There’s a wry twist to his lips, and he glances up at Levi through his bangs.
Truthfully, Levi had sort of thought that. It was easier to think that was all confined to one bubble of the world. Like Eren was some magical one-off.
How many witches has Levi known? How many more of them are out there? What else is out there?
“I wish I could say that most witches aren’t bad, but it’s like… We’re still people, right? And people aren’t inherently good or bad, it’s all just sort of mixed up.” Eren’s hand expands over Levi’s encompassing it in a loose grasp. “The only difference is we’re armed with magic, so the witches that make the wrong choices, the ones who think differently, like… It can become an issue. Magic isn’t always used properly, and witches don’t always follow the Code.”
Levi rubs at his forehead, and doesn’t even realize he’s made a groaning noise until Eren’s hand tightens around his fingers.
“Sorry,” Eren babbles, staring at their hands. “I kind of forget how much there is. Like, it’s not just telling you that, hey, I’m a witch, but there’s all this other shit that comes with it and… Fuck.” Eren slumps in his seat, and Levi is surprised he’s not full on resting his face against the table yet.
To be perfectly honest, he’s pretty sure this is all way too fucking much for him, especially all at once, which just makes it more frustrating that he never fucking suspected anything. Okay, so he doesn’t think so much of himself that he would have ever guessed that Eren’s a fucking witch, but shouldn’t there have been signs or some shit?
There were, he realizes, almost as soon as he thinks it.
There were so many fucking signs when he looks for them in hindsight. Things that stand out only now that he knows the truth. But still, how had he fucking brushed those things aside? How was it that he never questioned any of it?
Like the way it’s been easier to sleep since he’s met Eren, or how he never, ever has nightmares. Or that whenever his anxiety is spiking, Eren seems able to soothe him just by talking to him, or, if it gets really bad, fixes Levi tea that seems to draw the feeling right out of him like some sort of antidote.
(Tea that had never gone cold, no matter how long it had taken Levi to drink it.)
There was the way Eren’s hands seemed able to pull stress and pain right out of his body, whether by massaging his pinched neck muscles or dragging across his brow to erase what was most likely the beginnings of a migraine. How the few colds he’d had since they started dating seemed to end with a single bowl of soup, or how he’s never missed a deadline so long as Eren wished him goodluck.
All things that Levi maybe, perhaps, possibly, attributed to steadily falling in love with Eren.
But there were… Other things.
Some of them just came off as eccentricities. Odd things about Eren that he probably should have found off-putting, but that really just made Eren all the more charming and desirable to him.
(Is that magic?)
Eren’s obsession with candles, for one, but also with precious stones and metals, to the point where all of those things clutter Eren’s apartment to a point that almost makes it uninhabitable. And that’s not even considering all the plants and herbs, hanging from every available surface and growing from far too many window boxes, most of which are nailed to whatever wall space isn’t taken up by something else. There’s the wind chimes, too, the ones that Eren makes himself out of… Out of everything, really.
(Levi thinks of the wind chime Eren made him, that hangs on the balcony of his apartment. He wonders what it’s for. What it does.)
Eren also hand makes soaps and other bathing products, not just for his own personal use but for profit, as well. And then there are all the unmarked tins, bottles, and containers that crowd every shelf in his kitchen—especially the loose leaf teas, that taste and smell like no tea Levi’s ever had (and he likes to think he’s had his fair share of tea).
And sure, a lot of those things could be passed off as some kind of bohemian, one-with-mother-nature, hippie hipster bullshit, but…
There’s also the cats. The strays that gather on the fire escape outside Eren’s living room window. The ones he’s named, and that he feeds, but that he never takes in.
There’s his deep love of the moon. How the sight of it never fails to make him smile. How he stares at it with a kind of reverence that almost makes Levi uncomfortable. How he traces the shape of it in the sky with the tip of his finger, and proceeds to tell Levi what it means.
He always knows when it’s going to rain.
He can wash and clean his clothes, his dishes, his apartment, in a matter of minutes.
How sometimes Levi had had to look twice at something, because he could have sworn he’d seen a spoon moving on its own across the room, or the curtains on a window sliding shut of their own free will, before his mind could rationalize such impossible ideas away.
How lights and candles would simply seem to come to life and die just as quickly without either of them interfering, especially as they stumbled not only through Eren’s apartment but Levi’s as well, too distracted by each others hands and mouths to pay attention to things like that.
It’s only now that Levi can look back on all those moments and have his mind click all the pieces into place—to make sense of it all.
It’s magic. As much sense as that makes, that’s what it is.
Magic.
Eren’s magic.
Because Eren is a witch.
Eren is a witch who is in love with him.
Holy shit, Levi needs to sit down.
(Fuck, he already is.)
“I… I know it’s a lot to take in.” It’s not just Eren’s suddenly defeated voice that pulls Levi back into himself, but the way the hand still clinging to Levi’s is trembling. Levi feels a protective lurch in his throat, but before he can say or do anything, more words are tumbling out of Eren’s mouth. “And if you need time t-to process all of this, to take it all in, I totally get that, and you deserve that much, and please take as much as you want, or…” His shoulders are hunched so high, they’re almost even with his ears, and for the first time all evening, Levi can’t look away from him. “Or if you want to walk away, I… I won’t stop you.” His voice wobbles out, quiet and broken, and Levi takes no time in twisting their fingers, fast and fierce, until they’re laced firmly together.
Maybe that would be for the best. Maybe Levi should walk away.
Because he’s shocked, and surprised, and confused, but then again, it’s not every day he finds out that not only do witches exist but he’s been unknowingly dating one for the last several months. Levi’s pretty sure most people would have the same fucking reaction he’s having, if not worse. And he knows, by the tentative way Eren has touched him, by the caution in his voice, that he’s still waiting for the worst of it to happen.
That he thinks Levi will walk away.
And fuck if Levi isn’t scared. There are parts of him that are terrified, and suspicious, and paranoid, and insecure. He doesn’t know what’s real and what to trust anymore. His entire world has been turned completely upside-down, so yeah, he needs fucking time to process all this shit. That it’s going to take him awhile to come to terms with this whole Eren-being-a-witch deal.
But he also knows that he trusts Eren. That he’s pretty sure his feelings for him are real.
And that even the idea of walking away from this, away from Eren, makes every inch of his body scream no.
(Is this magic?)
“It’s not magic,” he mutters, more to the questions in his own head and heart than anything else. In fact, he’s pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say it out loud at all. “What I feel isn’t magic,” he reiterates, like if he says it enough times, he can wash away all the insecurities about it.
It might be easier to believe that it is magic, actually. That the only explanation for Levi feeling this much is something otherworldly.
But, then again, it is. Eren is plenty otherworldly, all on his own.
“Well…” Eren starts, voice soft as he rubs the pad of his thumb over Levi’s knuckle tenderly. “I wouldn’t say that…” Levi’s eyes flicker up to meet Eren’s, but before the cold touch of betrayal can sink Levi’s heart like a stone, he amends, “I think it is magic, but not… Not like my magic. Not the sort of magic that can be conjured, or controlled. Not that I would try, if it could.”
Ah.
Eren’s just being a sappy fuck.
Because, magic or no magic, he’s still the same Eren. Not that Levi has questioned that, even once, throughout all of this. He’s still the over-eager idiot with a hairline trigger temper and a stubborn as fuck one-track mind, who blurts things out without thinking them through first and who is too god damned earnest and good underneath all that pigheaded cockiness.
And fuck, has he had Levi’s heart since the second he offered him a smile. Almost as if he was holding his hands out and asking for it, right then and there.
Levi wonders now if he even hesitated.
Fucking magic, indeed.
“Shut the fuck up,” Levi says, voice as warm as it is put-upon by Eren’s overly cliché metaphor. It’s not the I love you, too that Eren deserves, but, well, it’s been a big day for confessions. Levi thinks he’ll hold onto his own for just a little while longer.
They sit in silence, then, both of them staring at their joined hands, both of them clinging to the other as if they might disappear into a cloud of smoke. Hell, anything is fucking possible now.
The more seconds that go by, the less desperate Eren’s hold gets.
“You’re not leaving,” he says, as if he can’t quite believe it, and Levi wishes this conversation hadn’t happened with a table between them. That he could pull Eren close and show him just how little intention he has of disappearing out of Eren’s life.
“No,” Levi says, and considers doing something equally sappy himself, like lifting Eren’s knuckles to his lips and kissing them. But the idea is embarrassing enough to quell any attempt at it. “I’m not.”
Eren doesn’t look like he quite believes it, and his eyes are darting around again.
“I—” he stops, licks his lips, and doesn’t look at Levi. “Really?”
Levi scoffs in his throat, drawing a startled glance from Eren.
“Fucking hell, do you really think I’m that unreasonable? Do you want me to leave?”
“No!” The word rushes out of Eren so quickly that he’s standing up in the same motion, knocking his chair over. They both wince at the sound it makes when it connects with the floor. “No, I just…” Eren looks at a loss for words.
Which is magic in and of itself, because the kid never shuts the fuck up.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Levi tells him, maintaining eye contact as he does so. And then, because the moment feels too full, too emotional, and like he might fucking spill his heart all over the table between them at any second, he destroys it with a level, “You’re basically free Vicodin.” He picks up his tea and sips it nonchalantly, thoroughly demolishing any moment they were about to have.
(The tea is still warm.)
And Eren laughs. His nose scrunches up, and he’s still holding onto Levi by his fingers like he can’t stand the idea of letting go, and his body vibrates with it, and Levi hides his smile behind the teacup and tries not to think gross, disgusting, sappy thoughts.
Like how of course, of fucking course Eren is a witch. How hadn’t Levi known from the start? After all, only magic could come up with someone like Eren.