Thanks to @jumpinguptothesky for this beautiful fanart from Levihan week 2025 ! (https://www.tumblr.com/jumpinguptothesky/788966965011251200/hdjjdjjdjjjjdjjs?source=share)
Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Mention of domestic abuse
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë
Characters: Pieck Finger, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë, Porco Galliard, Reiner Braun, Erwin Smith, Mike Zacharias, Nanaba (Shingeki no Kyojin), Mikasa Ackerman, Mikasa Ackerman's Parents, Dot Pixis, Jean Kirstein, Jean Kirstein's Mother, Sasha Blouse, Connie Springer, Ymir of the 104th (Shingeki no Kyojin), Petra Ral
Tags and tropes: urbex, lost media - Freeform, Investigation, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Years Later, Lost Love, Mystery, Plot, Revelations, Angst, Light Angst
Summary:
Urbex : Urban exploration of abandoned buildings.
Pieck makes a string of typical student struggles. Money, deadlines, rent, driving licence, course guidance... What allows her to breath and take a break is urbex sessions, usually with Porco. Wandering through deserted buildings with her camera always feels like a time capsule which saves her from daily stress.
One day, in old barracks, Pieck finds a correspondence hidden for years, written by a man called Levi. She has no idea how old those letters are, and when Levi wrote it. But as she reads it, she understands two things : first, those letters are love letters. And second, in days gone, Levi and his so-called "Four-Eyes" were robbed of their story.
So Pieck takes a decision. She starts a long investigation to find Levi and Hanji and to fix a story that should have never ended the way it did.
Summary: Helplessly, she rolled in her bed, kicking the sheets, screaming into her pillow -or tried to scream as much as her aching vocal cords allowed- and then lay languorously. Stupid, stupid air conditioning, stupid sickness. She already felt fucking awful, and now her best friend was sending her ex-boyfriend to take care of her. Great. Absolutely phenomenal.
Hanji woke up sick, groaning, sweating, aching all over for absolutely no reason. She was pretty sure the night before she was completely fine, healthy as a newborn baby. Now her throat was sore, her joints were throbbing with pain, and her eyes- God, her eyes were on fire.
“I am in hell,” she whined, pressing her mouth on her pillow.
Soon, it became clear that she had a fever and wouldn’t, for that matter, go to work today. Hanji called her boss to let him know; he wasn’t joyous, but thankfully he showed mercy. Then she called Nanaba to let her know.
“I think I am dying,” she groaned to the phone.
“Hope you’re not,” her friend replied. She could hear her quick footsteps through the phone. “I need you for this project; besides, it was a long time coming. I told you a million times to turn the air conditioning off while working.”
“But it’s so hot,” said Hanji, shivering because of the fever, and she combed her sweaty hair backwards. “Anyway, I’m paying the price of my bad deeds. I don’t know if I can get better till tomorrow.”
“Take your time, don’t push yourself. You need to rest,” Nanaba said. There was some rustling in the background, then the sound of a car engine coming to life. “I’ll send someone to take care of you.”
Hanji frowned; her eyes were shut. It hurt to keep them open. “Who?”
“You’ll find out.”
Hanji opened her eyes then, suspicious. “Nana, who could you be possibly sending to help me? Everybody’s at work.”
“Well yeah,” she said carelessly. “But some of them are their own boss.”
There was only one person as such. And it was… “Nana, don’t you dare—”
“Sorry, babe, gotta go. I’ve got work to do. You’ll fill me in on the details later,” she said, and then, “I’ll give him your keys.”
Hanji could imagine the wink and the smirk on her friend’s face. Alarmed, she grabbed the phone tighter in her hand. “Wait—” But the line had gone silent.
Helplessly, she rolled in her bed, kicking the sheets, screaming into her pillow -or tried to scream as much as her aching vocal cords allowed- and then lay languorously. Stupid, stupid air conditioning, stupid sickness. She already felt fucking awful, and now her best friend was sending her ex-boyfriend to take care of her. Great. Absolutely phenomenal.
Hanji drew her thin sheet up to her throat, trembling violently. She watched the ceiling as if the reason for her existence was written there. Levi was coming. It had been months since she had last seen him. She wasn’t even sure Levi would want to see her, though, let alone take care of her. They hadn’t really parted on good terms, so to speak. Hanji was certain Levi hated her at some level. Why would he agree to come here anyway? Her stomach contracted. Which one was worse? Seeing Levi after breaking his heart or him refusing to come here at all?
She missed him. Even thinking about him was enough to send waves of pain throughout her body. She felt it with every inch of her. Her fingertips tingled with the memory of his skin, and she could still somewhat remember the way he smelled. How tight he would hold her while she slept and how gentle he would be to her. A hidden sweetness reserved for her only. And she had ripped it all to shreds. Because she was a coward. The greatest fool the earth had ever seen.
Her eyes burned with tears this time. But she didn’t let herself cry. She didn’t deserve it. Levi wouldn’t come. She could still remember the hurt, the betrayal and the disappointment in his eyes. It wasn’t his business to take care of her. Not anymore.
She had no appetite, so Hanji drifted back into sleep. Yet she was restless and sweaty; she kept turning this way and that. She was hot and cold, so the sheets were a mess from her constantly struggling. Her dreams were foggy, images blurry and most of the time meaningless. But she remembered seeing Levi’s face. Broken and distant. Cold in a way that made her shiver even more. And with that image of his face, she woke and heard the doorbell.
Heart leaping to her throat, she dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the door. Even with a high fever and aching bones and how dreadful she felt, there was a slight hope in her chest that whispered maybe, maybe he had come. And she could tell him how sorry she was and tell him about the mess she had made with her life after she had let him go.
It wasn’t Levi. Disappointment rained down on her, but what was she expecting anyway? Why would he come? It was Eren, holding out a bag towards her; his eyes were soft. “Boss told me to bring this to you,” he said. “He was very busy today, so he couldn’t come himself.”
Her eyes burned, but she sent the tears away again. She put on a half-smile and took the bag from him. It was a pharmacy bag, and there was a huge knot in her throat. She blamed it on the fever. “Thank you,” she said. “You didn’t need to come all this way.”
He shrugged. “Can’t miss a break from work,” he told her, grinning. “And from you-know-who.”
She laughed. “Right. I would offer you a drink but…”
“It’s okay. I gotta get back. Hope you get better soon.”
“Thank you.” Just as Eren turned, Hanji called out to him. “Please tell him I said thank you.”
Eren looked over his shoulder at her and gave her a slight smile. “’ Course.”
Hanji didn’t have the energy to walk back all the way to the bedroom, so she went instead to the living room and threw herself on a couch. Inside the pharmacy bag, there were pills for the flu, antipyretics, cough syrup and painkillers, as well as all kinds of vitamins. Hanji sighed, bit her lip and felt like the longing she felt for him was strong enough to choke her, to be wrapped around her like a stiff, thick rope. And after she placed all the boxes next to each other on the table, she found a little note inside the bag.
Do not forget to eat before you take the pills.
That was it. Brief and clear. And it was enough to make her cry and cry until she fell asleep again on the couch.
The next time she woke up, she was shivering wildly, and she tried to sit up to find a blanket to cover herself, only to find out that there was already one covering her. And there was a soothing voice, a cool touch of a hand on her forehead, relaxing her back into the cushions. The room was dim; the setting sun was disappearing behind the horizon slowly. And Levi was sitting on the edge of the couch she had fallen asleep on. His face, half covered in shadows, was cautious, thoughtful, but gentle nonetheless. As was his touch on her face, his fingers caressing her sweaty hair. “You didn’t eat, did you?” he asked, accusingly.
Hanji wanted to lean into his touch, to grab him, hold him, press him against herself and keep him there for a long time. But she didn’t have the courage. She was barely breathing, afraid that a single loud sigh would make him shrink away from her.
“I don’t have an appetite,” she whispered.
Levi hummed. “When do you ever have an appetite?” he asked, frowning a little disapprovingly. “You should eat. I made some soup.”
His voice was so soft, tender like a flower. And Hanji was walking on eggshells, trying to control her breathing, but her heart was so wild, beating in her chest. “Okay,” she said.
And she expected him to get up and leave. For the moment to disappear like a mirage. But his hand kept stroking her hair and his thumb kept caressing her cheek, and Hanji felt like she was going to melt like a candle into the cushions below her. It was as if he was savouring this moment just like her. And Hanji gave herself a moment to believe that he had missed her as much as Hanji missed him. And when their eyes met for a second, she was sure the emotions rippling on the surface were a mix of longing, love and heartbreak.
Then Levi sighed; just like that, the moment came to an end. Before he got up, his fingers lingered on her cheek for just a second, and then they were gone, and she was cold again.
“Come to the kitchen,” he said before leaving the room.
Forcing each muscle and bone in her body, Hanji followed him to the kitchen. There she sat at one of the chairs, pulled the arms of her sweatshirt to her palms, and when Levi put a bowl of hot chicken soup in front of her, she drank it unwillingly. But she had managed to drink all of it. It tasted wonderful. If she had the stomach, she would ask for another bowl.
Then she took the pills and vitamins Levi bought for her. Then there was nothing to do except wait for the pills to do their work. After doing the dishes, Levi left the kitchen. And Hanji thought Levi would leave now. It was even a miracle that he was here. She didn’t think he would stay any longer. Although she wished he did. Deeply, desperately. And she hated how selfish she was. She didn’t deserve his kindness.
While she was busy pitying herself, Levi came back. “You need to take a shower,” he said.
Hanji shivered. “I don’t think I can.”
“You need to. You have a high fever. Or else I’ll take your ass to the hospital.”
“I don’t need to go to a hospital. I am fine,” Hanji retorted. “It’s just a fever. I don’t even cough that much.”
Right on cue, she started coughing. Levi raised a brow, knowingly. “You will take that shower.”
“Make me,” Hanji said stubbornly.
Levi’s eyes turned dark with resolution. “You know I can.”
She shivered again for some other reason. Besides, even the thought of having a shower chilled her to the bones. “I don’t want to.”
Levi watched her for a handful of seconds with that dark, resolute stare of his, and then he walked to her, leaned down, held her waist and before Hanji found the time to protest, he threw her over his shoulder.
Hanji shrieked, but Levi walked casually out of the kitchen to the bathroom, not budging an inch. Hanji was so bewildered to do nothing but watch his back, her mouth open in shock. “I can’t—I don’t—Are you out of your mind?” she yelled at last, finding her words.
“Kind of,” Levi answered, stepping into the bathroom. He put her down only after he closed and locked the door. Then he went into the shower cabin and turned on the water.
“You are crazy,” Hanji said, trembling with fury and fever. “I am not stepping into that shower.”
Levi moved closer to her, toe to toe, face to face. He was so close she could smell him, fresh, clean and familiar. “Yes, you are,” he said. Then he took hold of her sweater and pulled it off her in one swift movement. She was left only in her tank top. And while she was too startled to make a sane, logical move, Levi took his own shirt off, put his hands on her waist and before she registered what was going on, they were both inside the shower cabin, with its door closed and mild, almost cool water running down over their heads.
Hanji was furious, and sick and so in love with this man in front of her that she didn’t know what to do. She only managed to grab his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. They were so close that their chests touched with each breath. She could almost feel his breath on her wet skin.
“Is this your revenge?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Levi searched her eyes; his face was motionless, but there was a storm in his gaze. Heavy with emotions, with things he left unsaid for months. “No,” he said.
“What is it then?”
“Just a means to make you better.”
Water drops were slipping down her face, into her mouth. They were both soaked at this point, and she barely kept her eyes open. So, she closed them now, in defeat. “I won’t get better.”
“You will,” he said. “With time.”
His thumbs caressed both sides of her waist under her tank top. It was electric to feel his touch on her bare skin. She moved closer to him almost on instinct, and he pulled her closer; they were almost pressed against each other. Mouths a breath away, and their foreheads touched, then their noses bumped. And she was sure he was going to kiss her until she couldn’t breathe anymore.
Levi licked his lips; his arms were wrapped around her waist now, and his thumb moved in circles on her back. Yet he didn’t make a move to close the little bit of space between their mouths. Hanji thought, with a little bit of wits left in her, that it was better that they didn’t kiss. She was, after all, sick, and she hadn’t brushed her teeth and—
Levi moved, cracking his head to the side; he pressed his lips to her chin. Hanji sighed, and he continued, leaving little, lingering kisses down to her throat and swallowing the water drops on her skin. When she felt the hot touch of his tongue on her neck, she whimpered, and that was probably the end of his restraint. With a groan, he walked her back to the shower wall. She felt the coldness of the wet tiles on her back, and her front was pressed against him fully now. Her fingers were on his wet hair, her head tilted back, her breaths fast and hot, and his lips burning the skin of her chin, neck, chest, but never anywhere close to her lips.
Almost frustrated, she whispered his name, desperately, pleadingly and pulled at his hair so that he understood. And she had no doubt that he did, and yet he didn’t give her what she wanted.
It was over almost as quickly as it started. As if a sudden awareness struck him and he realised where and in what position he was, he stopped and stepped back suddenly. His chest was heaving, his eyes were dilated, and his lips were red. Hanji was no different. She was breathing hard and fast; her palms were on the tiles behind her to hold herself up, so that she didn’t slide down.
“Levi,” she started without knowing what to say. But he shook his head, then huffed out a laugh, humourless. Then he reached down to turn off the water and turned his back to slide open the door of the cabin. “I’ll be outside.”
Picking his shirt from the floor, he left without another word. And Hanji finally let herself slide down and sit on the shower floor. Water dripped from her hair, and her wet clothes made her even colder. But none of them could compare to the frosty wind that had just swept her heart.
After taking a proper shower, brushing her teeth and changing into clean clothes, Hanji went back into the living room. Her head was still somewhat foggy, but she felt way better than she did this morning. Levi was sitting on the couch thoughtfully. She had been keeping some of his clothes in her closet, and apparently, he had found them.
She took a seat across from him, feeling nervous. She wasn’t used to this silence, the distance that felt like years were piled up between them. When in fact it had barely been a year. Months of never talking, never being near each other, never touching, kissing and holding him.
“I keep thinking,” Levi said, and Hanji startled, too lost in her own thoughts. She looked at him, but he was watching the carpet; his eyes were cloudy. “If I’ve done something, to apologize.”
She opened her mouth to object, but he went on. “I must have.” He stared into her eyes. “Surely there must be something I have done wrong.”
“No,” Hanji said in a low voice. “You have done nothing wrong.”
A muscle moved on his jaw; she could tell that he was annoyed. Just like she knew he would grab his neck, release a harsh breath through his nose and say, “What the fuck is it then?” A lightning in his eyes. “Give me a solid reason.”
“I have told you,” Hanji said, pressing her lips together. “It’s not about you. It’s just I—”
“You don’t want me then, is that it?” He asked, mouth tight. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe that, Hanji. Not after what just happened.”
She paused, staring at him, confused and admittedly a little hurt. “You’ve done that on purpose.”
“No,” he said. “I miscalculated. I thought I was way past missing you.”
Her breath caught in her throat and her nails dug into her palms. She wanted to say something, to explain and make him understand. But there was nothing else to say. He was right to be confused. Hanji didn’t think even she knew the exact reason. She only knew that at that time everything was just too much: the work, her PhD, her father’s sickness, and expectations. Family, friends and Levi. She had tried so much to make it all work, but in the end she always found herself drowning, sinking deeper and deeper. She still remembered the look in Levi’s eyes when he said, “Am I suffocating you?”
She couldn’t bear reminiscing about it. It was a knife in her stomach, twisting viciously. And maybe it was that memory or her laboured breaths, or simply the sickness that still invaded her body, that when she opened her mouth to say something, she started coughing.
Levi was beside her in a moment, his hand on her back, drawing soothing circles. “You need to rest,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up.”
Because Hanji knew him so well, she was certain that apologising had made him feel better. Finally, he had something to be sorry about. A trivial matter but an adequate excuse. And because of that, Hanji didn’t object, nodding as she accepted his apology even though it made her feel worse than she already did.
“You can leave if you’d like,” she said instead. “I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t respond right away. The silence was loaded, the air tense just like her shoulders while waiting for his answer. She heard the little sigh that escaped his mouth as if accepting his defeat.
“I’ll stay for a few more hours.”
Levi knew from the beginning that he shouldn’t have come here. He shouldn’t have picked up the phone when Nanaba called, and he should’ve sufficed with just sending Eren with the pills this morning. He had thought being near her wouldn’t affect him anymore, that he was past that point. It didn’t take long to understand that he was just being naive. It was torture. He shouldn’t have underestimated his feelings, nor the effect Hanji always had, and still has, over him.
Levi wasn’t the one to end things between them; they had been together for almost two years, and he had never intended to let her go. And for a few months he did try to fix it, to make up for whatever the hell he had done wrong. Yet she kept saying it wasn’t about him, and he loathed that single sentence. What the fuck was it then? He racked his brain for days and weeks, trying to come up with something, anything so that he could apologise and make things work again. Yet it was in vain. His efforts didn’t bear any fruit, and in the end he stopped trying. Rather than wasting energy on someone who obviously didn’t want to come back, he focused on burying his emotions. Erasing, forgetting and getting used to living with an emptiness in his heart.
He shouldn’t have come here, in short. He was a man, a man with pride. But he was also a man in love, and a man in love, he figured, was capable of doing a great many foolish things.
Foolish things like cleaning the bathroom, the kitchen, changing her sheets, preparing food to last her for a couple of days -even though he wouldn’t be here to force her to eat- and watering the flowers or at least the ones that were still in the throes of death. Some of them weren’t even that lucky.
“You know you shouldn’t buy flowers if you won’t look after them properly.”
Hanji was lying on the couch, responding to her emails on her laptop. She looked up at him from atop her glasses, guiltily. “Sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I’ve just been really busy.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Levi said cuttingly. “You’re living in a mess.”
“Wait,” she said, blinking. “What have you been doing?”
“Cleaning,” he said blankly.
She sat up, dumbfounded. “I thought you were sitting in the kitchen!”
He raised a brow. “Doing what exactly?”
“I don’t know!” Hanji yelled, alarmed. “Staying away from me? It’s just— oh my God!”
She buried her face in her palms, dramatically. In a way, he did use cleaning as an excuse to stay away and not have to talk to her, but he kept that to himself. “It’s fine. I’m done anyway.”
Hanji stared at him with hesitation. “You’re leaving then?”
“I should,” he said. “It’s getting late.”
He paused, looked at her, took in the mess of her hair, the glasses sitting askew on her nose, her cheeks still painted pink from the fever, chapped lips and her eyes. Big, brown, sad and apologetic. And it was her eyes; it had always been her eyes that, like an anchor, pulled him down to the deepest parts of his being. No matter what he did, he couldn’t swim back to the surface. That pair of eyes had squeezed his heart like a lemon, draining it to the last drop. And yet here he was.
He reached out and put his palm on her forehead to control her fever. But really, it was just an excuse to touch her one last time. Hanji closed her eyes, and the lines of her face crumbled with sorrow. And Levi lost control over his fingers. They travelled through her hair, fixed her glasses and then, with the back of his fingers, he stroked her cheek lightly.
“You’re okay,” Levi said. “Your fever has dropped.”
“I’m sorry, Levi,” Hanji whispered, like she hadn’t heard him. “I really am.”
Levi knew that he still loved and missed her, yet despite that, deep down he was hurt and angry. “It doesn’t really matter anymore,” he said, coldly. “Does it?”
Withdrawing his fingers, he stood before her, responding to her sorrowful gaze with guarded eyes. “I know,” she said.
He moved his eyes away from Hanji to the painting on the wall behind her. It was one of Edvard Munch’s works. A man and a woman kissing, embracing each other, their faces blurred. It made him think of a quote from the book Hanji had given him to read before they broke up. Giovanni’s Room.
Not many people have ever died of love. But multitudes have perished and are perishing every hour – and in the oddest places! - for lack of it.
“Just know we were lucky to have this,” he said, unable to control the bitterness in his voice. “And you wasted it.”
Refusing to confront the hurt in her eyes, he turned, packed his things up and left with a wounded, guilty and heavy heart.
--
The next day, physically, Hanji was good enough to go to work even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. But at least work would distract her from thinking about the events of the day before repeatedly to the point of losing her mind. And it did too. She managed to hold it together until the lunch break.
And she started crying while eating her salad.
“He hates me,” she said, sobbing miserably and cleaning her nose with the tissue Nanaba had given her.
“Oh baby, no, he doesn’t.” She put her hand on her shoulder. “Levi doesn’t know how to hate you. He only knows how to love you, and let’s be honest, you both suck at that.”
Hanji was thankful to her friend, but her words had just made her cry harder. “I had to, Nana, you know that, right? I just-- I had to, then. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I know,” her friend said, soothingly. “But,” she sighed. “He has a right to be angry.”
“He does,” Hanji accepted. “I just don’t know how to explain it to him.”
“Don’t try to explain it to him,” she said. “Just let him be here for you. If you are ready, that is. I think that would be enough for him.”
Hanji sniffed, wiping away her tears. “Yeah?”
Nanaba nodded. “He texted me today, asking me if you were okay or not.”
“Really?” Hanji asked, feeling blooming hope in her chest. “What did you say?”
“I told him to ask you himself.” She smiled sadly. “But I guess he didn’t.”
“No,” Hanji replied. “He didn’t.” She chewed her lip. “What should I do?”
“Talk to him,” her friend said. “Talk to him if you are ready. If you want to. I know you needed time to sort things out for yourself, but you are better now, and I think you still need him.”
Hanji contemplated her words. She was right. It had been months, and she had changed. It was just that she didn’t want to invade Levi’s life once more after shattering it. She had thought he had moved on. But she wasn’t so sure now after what had happened yesterday.
She nodded, “I guess I will.” And then, smiling she added, “Then I will decide if I should thank you or scold you for sending him yesterday.”
Nanaba sighed. “Doesn’t matter. I think I know how this story ends.”
Hanji was restless until the end of her shift. She barely managed to focus on her job, got scolded for her absent-mindedness, and counted minutes for the clock to strike six o’clock. After that, she merely lingered for a quick goodbye to Nanaba, who waved her off with a playful and knowing smile, and she was out.
The sky was covered with thick, black clouds signalling a downpour. Also, it was Friday and rush hour, so the traffic was horrible. The bus was so agonisingly slow and crowded, and she was so nervous that she felt like she was going to be sick if she stayed inside for a minute longer. She barely waited for the next bus stop to throw herself out.
After that, she started walking. Then, just to make sure, she entered Levi’s address on the map to see how long it would take to reach there. It couldn’t possibly be that far from where she was. And… well, thirty minutes on foot. She felt the first raindrops falling on her hair. Thirty minutes on foot with rain. Great. Maybe it was karma.
It wasn’t that bad. The wind was occasional, light and cool. There was no storm yet. The rain was gentle. And it gave her some time to think. Was she doing the right thing? Had she done the right thing when she broke up with him? It was the hardest choice she had ever made, but still she thought it was the right thing to do. Love, sometimes, wasn’t enough to keep two people together. But it didn’t just fade away either.
When finally Hanji saw the bench near Levi’s house, it had been almost forty minutes since she had started to walk. Nearly drenched and exhausted, she decided to sit down for a few minutes to rest. She couldn’t even care that the bench was also wet. The sun was about to set, and the air had started to grow a little chilly.
“I deserve this,” she said to herself, watching the raindrops fall and bounce on the ground. “Yes, you deserve this, Hanji. You broke his heart; you didn’t give him a solid reason, and now he hates you because—”
“Hanji?”
She jumped, looked up and saw Levi staring at her with a puzzled expression. He was wearing shorts, leggings, a pair of running shoes, and a black sport coat; his head was covered with his hoodie. Apparently, he had gone out for a run.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, still confused.
“I was waiting for you,” Hanji managed to reply, still somewhat dumbfounded that Levi had found her instead.
“Here?” he asked yet again. And Hanji saw the beginning of irritation in his eyes. “Under pouring rain?”
“Well, yes,” Hanji said, feeling the need to defend herself. “It’s not like I could find you at home?”
“What about waiting inside the apartment, genius?”
She hadn’t thought of that. “So what?” she said, lifting her chin. “Maybe I like getting soaked in the rain.”
He pursed his lips. “You were sick just yesterday, you fool.”
Hanji folded her fists and pressed her lips. This wasn’t the kind of conversation she had in mind while coming here. She was always good with words, but why the hell couldn’t she find them now?
Levi sighed at her silence. He was done with her. She had come here for nothing. Why would he try to listen to someone who couldn’t even speak? “Let’s go home,” he said. “We’ll talk inside.”
He started walking and Hanji, alarmed, stood up at once. “Wait!”
Levi turned, staring at her with those intense, blue eyes. Under the hoodie, his face was dark and yet something in his gaze made her finally speak. “I am sorry.”
He didn’t try to interrupt, so she went on. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry. I really am.” She swallowed the knot in her throat. “But if I could go back in time, I think I would still do the same thing because I love you.”
Something changed in his eyes then, like a pebble thrown in still water; she could see the way these three words ruffled his emotions. Yet he stood silent still. Watchful and defensive.
“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” she continued, voice trembling. “And I don’t think I can explain it to you properly, and I know it is selfish, but I love you. And I want to be with you again. And I don’t know what kind of a person this makes me. You have every right to hate me and to be angry with me. And you don’t need to accept this apology. I just—I just—”
Oh God, she was going to cry again. She bit her lip painfully to stop her tears from flowing pathetically. And she swallowed several times before attempting to talk again. But Levi was close now; his hands were on her shoulders. The rain went on pouring, wetting their clothes, her hair, sliding down her nose to her lips.
“Hanji, look at me,” he said with a voice so tender. “I don’t hate you. How can I?”
Hanji looked at him and saw his emotions raw, written all over his face. The veil was down, his defences broken. His longing and his love, palpable like the smell of earth, on the tip of her nose.
“You are angry with me,” she said, as if stating a fact.
“I am,” he assented. “I am angry at you for pushing me away.”
Unable to do or say anything else, she nodded.
“I am angry at you because whatever you have been going through, you chose to go through it alone.”
She nodded again, tears flowing freely now, mixing with rain on her cheeks.
“But I want to understand,” he said, and he cupped her cheek, brushing away the drops of tears and rain with his thumb. “Because I love you.”
Her heart fluttered, hopeful like the wings of a butterfly. “Still?” she asked, her voice broken.
“I’ve never stopped loving you,” he said, without hesitation.
She sniffed, and leaning forward, she rested her forehead against his. She felt like she had dropped tons of weight off her shoulders. For the first time in months, she finally felt light like a dandelion. It felt like she could give herself to the wind.
“I am sorry,” she said again.
“The only thing you should be sorry about from now on,” Levi said, pulling back and taking off his coat. “is the fact that you waited under this rain with nothing but an old, ugly t-shirt.”
He dropped his coat over her shoulders. “I don’t think it’s ugly though,” Hanji said, sniffling.
Levi sighed, refusing to object to her. “Let’s go home.”
The house was dark because the lights were off and because of the dark rain clouds. But neither Levi nor Hanji switched any of the lights on. Hanji shrugged off Levi’s coat, and as if on a silent agreement, they walked quietly to Levi’s bedroom to maybe change their clothes or maybe to find some towels to dry themselves.
There was thunder and lightning, and the moment Hanji turned back to Levi, he was right in front of her. A breath away. And Hanji’s heart was beating so loud, louder than the rain outside. And she was both cold and hot, and maybe she was shivering a little too.
Then his lips were on her, and he was kissing her hungrily, desperately. His hands were on her waist, pulling her against him. Hanji sighed and kissed him back, with a hunger no less than his. Fingers in his hair, pulling, pushing, drawing closer and closer until she couldn’t breathe anymore. Someone moaned; she thought it was her, but maybe it was him, or maybe it was them both. Soon their clothes were on the floor, they were on his bed, and hours later the rain had slowed, but neither of them cared.
Needless to say, after spending the entire weekend at Levi’s home - and mostly in his bed – Hanji bought Nanaba a huge bouquet of her favourite flowers as a thank you.
The last Waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe.
AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER (2005 - 2008) S03E01 | The Awakening
AVATAR AANG: THE LAST AIRBENDER (2026)
