lol not me completely not knowing that Rivetra Week was happening THIS week and frantically trying to put something together. but on a more serious note, everyone in this fandom is so incredibly talented, I am in constant awe of all of you. always and forever, thank you for reading.
August 25th - Day 2: Jealousy
Levi had never considered himself to be a particularly possessive person. Sure, he had grown up in the pits of the Underground and he had learned how to protect what was his, how to prevent people from sticking their noses into his territory. He had established such a strong and deadly reputation for himself that once he arrived at the surface, there were few that dared to challenge him and his authority, especially when he had someone like Erwin at his side vouching for him. He didn’t want for much, he was used to surviving on next to nothing, he didn’t have many possessions to his name and besides, no one would dare to touch his things or even enter his room without permission anyways. He certainly wasn’t possessive of his friendships with others, if he could even call them that to begin with. He was protective of his squad in the sense that he didn’t want to see the shitty brats get devoured by titans, but they were free to do what they wanted otherwise. Really, he wasn’t a very possessive guy, he never had any reason to be.
So he didn’t quite understand the strange feeling that had coiled tightly in his chest and the way that his blood seemed to boil beneath his skin when he saw one of the Garrison officers chatting up Petra.
Levi had permitted his squad to have the day off, claiming that he needed to make a trip to the local market for supplies because “rations only give us the shit kind of everything anyway” when they had all agreed to join him. Begrudgingly, he had accepted. To be honest, the entire excursion into town didn’t end up being as bad as he had expected. He had found his tea, special soap, some extra cleaning supplies, and even a nice bottle of whiskey; he even considered sharing some with the rest of his squad later in the evening and they were just about ready to depart when the local flower stand had caught Petra’s eye. “They remind me of home,” she had said softly as she eyed the yellow chrysanthemums, a wistful look on her face, and she was quickly drawn to them, promising him that she would only be a moment. He had turned his back to get the horses, only a few minutes, but when he was just about to see what was taking her so long (“Oi, Ral, how long does it take to buy some fucking flowers?”), he was there.
He was tall, blonde, radiating with boyish charm and wearing a goofy grin that made the captain want to sink his fist into his face for some unknown reason. His lips were moving, he was saying something to her, and Petra’s hand flew up to cover her mouth, but he could see the way her lips curled upwards at the corners, the way her shoulders shook slightly. She was giggling. Her face was flushed. Was she blushing too? Levi watched as the boy dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a coin, pressing it into the vendor’s palm before plucking a flower at random, a daisy, from the bouquet. He reached forward, tucking it behind her ear, stepping closer to her.
Levi was pretty sure this bordered on sexual harassment.
Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he felt himself striding over to the pair with purpose, a murderous scowl etched across his features. Petra turned to greet him with a smile, but the boy didn’t even notice him at first, still staring at her with that stupid look on his face, before Levi cleared his throat, noticing with smug satisfaction how the boy sputtered violently, thumping a fist over his heart quickly.
“Captain Levi! I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t see you,” he squeaked.
“I can see that,” Levi said, a bite creeping into the edges of his voice. “Ral, it’s time to get going, c’mon.”
She laughed nervously, twisting a piece of hair between her fingers. “Sorry, Captain, I was just going to grab some flowers when I got to talking with-” She gestured to the boy beside her before she blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, you didn’t even tell me your name.”
“Henri.” He nodded his head at her before turning to Levi, extending a hand. “Henri Augustine, sir. It’s an honor to meet you,” he said, flashing him a toothy grin.
Levi only glared in response and Henri slowly dropped his hand, wiping his palm against his trousers and glancing at Petra out of the corner of his eye.
He jerked his chin towards the horses. “Petra, let’s go.”
She nodded in agreement and offered Henri a small wave and a soft smile before the boy quickly snatched her wrist, tugging her towards him. “Petra, wait!”
Contrary to popular belief, Levi also didn’t consider himself to be an unnecessarily vengeful person; he only used the right amount of vengeance when the situation called for it. But when he saw the punk’s fingers close around her wrist, he prayed to whatever deity he could think of that a titan would wreak havoc through the marketplace and the little shit would become lunch.
Henri pulled her closer to his chest, far too close for Levi’s liking and far too close to be considered appropriate in public, and bent forward to whisper something into her ear. Levi couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, but he caught snippets of his words, something like “love to see you” and “keep in touch”. She was blushing furiously and it made his stomach churn. Violently.
He was just about ready to put an end to their little conversation and insist she come with him, they did need to make it back to the barracks before sundown, when the boy brought her fingers to his lips, giving the back of her hand a soft kiss.
Levi saw red.
Within an instant, he was beside her and shoving the soldier backwards. Henri stumbled for a moment, his arms flailing wildly, before recovering and staring at the captain in bewilderment.
Levi seized Petra’s upper arm and began dragging her towards the horses. He knew that his grip was far too tight, but he didn’t care, choosing to ignore her hiss of pain.
“Captain - ow! - What’re you doing?!”
“We’re leaving,” he spat through a clenched jaw. “Now.” He spun her around, grabbing her hips and forcefully hoisting her onto her horse. She squeaked in surprise, her cheeks flushing bright red as she hastily adjusted herself across her saddle.
She tossed one last look over her shoulder at Henri, who still stood there seemingly petrified, and offered him a pitying glance before the bright yellow flowers caught her eye once more.
“Wait, Captain! I didn’t get the flowers!”
“Tough shit, Ral.”
If she were standing on the ground, and feeling an extra bit childish, she would’ve stomped her foot in indignation. Instead, she gave a small huff, offering the captain a subtle lift of her middle finger behind his back and muttering curses under her breath before she joined the rest of her squad. The boys exchanged confused, and concerned, looks between them as Eld rode beside her, leaning in.
“Should I even ask what the hell happened?” he mumbled from the corner of his mouth.
“Nope,” Petra replied, popping her lips at the end of her word.
Eld nodded tersely before shaking his head at Oluo and Gunther, imitating a slashing motion across his neck.
It was going to be a long ride home.
——————————
Petra had always known that she was a beautiful girl: she knew about the effect that she had on the men around her, how they would turn their heads when she entered a room. She knew that they found her desirable, something that her father had cautiously warned her about as she reached maturity and reminded her of as she enlisted in the military (“Really, Pet, the only girl in that entire squad?”). However, even though she was beautiful, she wasn’t a particularly feminine woman. Her brazen confidence, strength, and thirst for vengeance, coupled with her Scout uniform that was usually covered in blood and guts, had most men running for the hills before she could even introduce herself. It was alright, she reasoned; they weren’t worth her time anyway. Besides, she didn’t have time for romance, not when she was risking her life everyday for the sake of humanity. Still, she sometimes found herself daydreaming what it would be like to fall in love, get married, raise a family, like normal people do everyday, like she could do when the war ended.
She flopped onto her bed, having retired for the evening and changed into her nightgown, twisting the nearly-forgotten daisy, the source of all her current woes, between her fingers and plucking the individual petals with a tad more force than necessary. She hadn’t actually been interested in Henri, he was far too tall and lanky for her taste. But for a brief moment, her heart had fluttered at the mere notion of loving someone and being loved in return, especially when the focus of her affections was being an absolute ass.
She groaned in frustration, rubbing at her temples as she pushed away from her pillow. She needed to talk to him, she needed to set a boundary and tell him that she didn’t need him rushing in to defend her honor like she was some sort of damsel, she could handle herself perfectly fine.
But when she opened her door, she nearly yelped in surprise to see the very person she needed to talk to was already standing in her doorway, his knuckles raised to rap against the door. He looked at her with a similar expression of shock before his face melted into his usual bored, impassive look and he quickly shifted something behind his back before Petra caught a glance of what it was.
“What’re you doing here?” he said in a low voice.
She gestured to the nameplate on her door. “This is my room.”
The tips of his ears burned red, the only sign of his apparent awkwardness. “…oh, yeah.”
She folded her arms across her chest, feigning nonchalance. “What do you want?” she asked. Her tone was dry.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Is that how you want to talk to your commanding officer?”
Petra gave him a pointed look, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation, another habit of his that she had picked up. “What do you want, Captain?”
He swallowed audibly, she could practically see the knot that had wound itself in his throat. It confused her; in all the time that she had known him, she had never seen Levi quite so… nervous.
He threaded a hand through his hair. “I just, y’know, wanted to say that I’m-” He pressed a palm against his chest and grimaced, almost as if the words brought him physical pain. “I think I owe you, um… an apology… for today.” He scowled. “Even if that little shit was being a brat. And um, here, I guess.” He thrust something into her hands and Petra blinked once, then twice, then three times.
Yellow chrysanthemums.
“You said they reminded you of home, right?”
Flowers. He had given her flowers. Instantly, all of her anger and annoyance and frustration towards him seemed to melt away and an unfamiliar, yet pleasantly warm feeling swept into its place, pooling low into her gut and heating her from the inside out.
“You never picked them up when we were in town so I doubled back and got them for you.”
He had gone all the way back into town for her. To get her flowers.
“Just don’t expect something like this ever again, Ral, because that vendor charged the fuck out of me, so if you want flowers, I’ll just go pull you some weeds from the forest next time-”
“Captain?”
She stepped closer to him until they were nearly touching and lifted up onto her toes, quickly placing a chaste kiss against his cheek, desperately hoping that he wasn’t close enough to hear the pounding of her heart against her sternum. His skin was surprisingly smooth beneath her lips, she noticed faintly, and she smiled softly at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks and fighting back a blush.
He nodded, muttering something under his breath akin to “get that shit in some water or it’ll dry out” before promptly bidding her goodnight. He turned on his heel, retreating quickly back to his office but not before he could notice, from the corner of his eye, her beaming smile, the kind of shit that lights up a room, as she stared down at his flowers. The sight brought a small smirk to his face and the tightly coiled tension in his chest that he had felt all day, ever since seeing that Garrison punk sidle up to her at the flower stand, finally unraveled, replaced by a faint stirring that made his heart beat just a little faster.
HAPPY MONDAY! okay, this originally started out as a one-shot for Rivetra Week, but now i’m thinking of doing a full fic once i get an ao3 account? i’m just having too much fun with Librarian!Levi lol. let me know what y’all think! i hope everyone has a wonderful week. as always, thank you for reading :)
“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.” ~ Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
She’s here. Again.
Right on time, Levi notes with disdain.
She comes here nearly every Friday evening, carrying an iced caramel macchiato… or what he assumes to be a caramel macchiato from its color and excessive amount of whipped cream. She only ever arrives about ten minutes before the library closes for the evening, which is 9 PM, and stays for at least an hour or two, meaning Levi can’t even begin with his closing duties until she leaves for the night. He can’t help but wonder what kind of sociopath comes to a library in the middle of a Friday night drinking coffee.
Levi doesn’t like her.
This is ridiculous, he grumbles. After all, it’s not like this is his career or anything. He only accepted the job at the university’s library to make a little extra cash, just enough to help put him through grad school, considering most of his tuition is covered by scholarships anyways. But it’s only the first semester of his first year of his master’s program, and he’s already counting down the days until he gets that damned degree. He can’t take this anymore.
He supposes he could always find another job, but most of the other part-time jobs in or around campus involve too much customer-facing interaction. At least at the library, he can stick his headphones in and get some of his homework done. The only time he ever has to talk to the other students is to point them in the direction of a particular author or to tell them to shut the fuck up.
He should be thankful, at least she comes in here to actually read. Most of the kids who come here are just horny couples looking for a quick fuck in the philosophy section. He can’t help but shudder at the thought of how many of them he’s caught defiling Nietzsche. But after a long day of classes, working on his thesis, and enduring a shift at the library, he just wants to go home.
He slams his notebook shut and marches towards her, resisting the urge to pluck the book from her hands and toss it across the table. What does she even read anyways?
“Hey, look, we’re closed. You’ve gotta go home.”
She looks startled to see him, as if she didn’t expect to see another person here so late into the evening. Her amber eyes are wide and when Levi looks at her, he feels a slight tugging sensation at the back of his skull and he’s hit with the strange, nagging thought that he’s met her before. He dismisses it before it can even fester in his mind and he shakes his head. He can feel the ire bubbling up within his chest.
“Also, iced coffee? Really? It’s 9 o’clock.” He nearly cringes at his tone. Sure, he’s being a bit harsh with her and probably unleashing all of his frustration on the poor girl, but who else drinks an iced coffee this late at night? He rubs at his temples; he just wants to get out of here. There’s a cup of earl grey tea with his name on it waiting for him at home.
The girl laughs nervously, it sounds like broken glass, and she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He can’t help but notice that her hair is the same color as her eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what time you close and I guess I just lost track of time.” She stands up abruptly and her chair scrapes loudly against the floor. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. She stammers an apology, hastily collecting her books and papers before slinging her backpack over shoulder, making a beeline for the exit.
She doesn’t get far though. Her foot catches against the leg of her chair and she trips, crumpling to the ground with a yelp. Her books skid across the floor, papers flying into the air. She’s red in the face, sputtering about how sorry she is and how she’ll get out of his hair and how she won’t come to the library that late ever again as she desperately attempts to gather her belongings as quickly as she can.
His heart softens and there’s an unfamiliar ache in his chest. Instantly, he feels his mounting frustration toward her melt away and, despite his best efforts, he can’t help but feel sorry for her. Cursing under his breath, he bends down and begins to help her. She jolts, tossing him a bewildered look before she scrambles to her feet.
“Again, I’m really sorry. You should’ve said something sooner, I didn’t know it was that bad.” She takes the books from his arms, refusing to meet his gaze, even slowly backing up towards the exit. “I’ll, um, see you later… maybe.” She turns on her heel, practically sprinting for the door.
And maybe it’s the way that her deep blush highlights the golden freckles dusted across her cheeks or the way that the light catches in her hair, making it glow even brighter (seriously, who looks good under fluorescent lighting?), but Levi finds that the word tumbles from his lips before he can stop himself.
“Wait.”
He looks almost as surprised as she is.
“Don’t worry about it, you can stay.”
She’s holding her breath, he can tell. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Seriously, it’s no trouble.” He sighs, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Look, if you want to do me a favor, give me a hand with locking up when you’re done.”
She shifts her feet. “You sure?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
She nods, just once, and he can see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth before she cautiously makes her way back to the table. “Alright, thanks.” She settles herself into her chair and pulls out her book, thumbing through the pages. Levi doesn’t recognize the title, but he knows a cheesy romance novel when he sees it. Tch, typical. It’s even one of those really bad ones with the 90’s-esque models on the front.
…
Fuck, he can’t help himself.
“If you’re gonna read romance, at least pick a decent one.”
She glances up at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion, and the unbidden thought pops into his brain that she’s actually pretty cute.
“Huh?”
“You’re reading a romance novel.”
“…And what’s wrong with that?”
He waves a hand at their surroundings. “I’m just saying, out of the thousands of books available here, you choose romance?”
She laughs, a real laugh that sounds like a wind chime, and shrugs her shoulders. “What can I say? I like what I like,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone.
He scoffs at her and shakes his head. Whatever, he should probably start with the cleaning duties anyways so that when she’s ready to go, he’ll be nearly finished. Start with the trash, then make sure all of the returned books are put away, then-
“Why don’t you like romance novels?”
He nearly drops the broom. “What?”
She won’t look up from her book, but he can see that her lips are curled upwards in a coy smile as she flips the page. “All I’m saying is that you can’t judge me for reading romance when you can’t even give me a good reason not to.”
He quirks an eyebrow. Alright, two can play at this game. “Well, for starters, the plots are entirely predictable, the characters are two-dimensional, and they’re completely unrealistic,” he says, punctuating his words with a particularly aggressive sweep.
She glances up and he notices that she’s pouting at him. Shit, she’s actually really cute. “How so?” she asks with a tilt of her head.
He scoffs. “Seriously? All of that crap they put in there about soulmates, true love, whatever. None of it’s real.”
She purses her lips. “That’s what you think.” She takes another sip of her coffee, sucking the straw, unnecessarily loudly.
It’s annoying.
“What do you mean that’s what I think?”
“It’s fine, you’re entitled to your wrong opinion.”
…
What the hell?
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
The smirk quickly vanishes from her face and is replaced with utter panic, the tips of her ears are burning bright red. “I-I’m sorry, it was just a joke, I was only trying to be funny, I didn’t mean to offend-”
She’s rambling and it’s damn near painful to watch. She begins gesturing wildly with her hands, accidentally knocking over her iced coffee, and Levi watches in horror as whipped cream spills across the table. She nearly shrieks, jumping from her chair and sputtering about paper towels and how she’ll clean up after herself and how sorry she is and how she’s such a stupid idiot. He can’t help but slightly agree with that last part.
He wordlessly hands her the roll of paper towels from the cleaning supplies and she scurries back to the table, but she only succeeds in spreading the mess further across the wood. It’s nearly dripping onto the floor.
Levi sighs, tossing a rag over his shoulder and grabbing his bottle of cleaning spray. He walks over and holds her wrist, halting her haphazard cleaning. She stiffens beneath his grip and she’s flushing terribly, but she keeps her eyes trained on the table and he can’t help but notice how soft her skin is.
He clears his throat. “You’ve gotta spray it afterwards or else it’ll just get sticky.” He nudges her out of the way. “I’ll do it,” he grumbles.
He can see out of the corner of his eye that her shoulders are shaking and at first, he freezes because he thinks she’s crying, but then he hears a sharp giggle and realizes that she’s laughing, nearly doubling over at the confused look on his face.
She gasps for breath, wiping away a stray tear. “Gee, I really know how to make a first impression, huh?”
He blinks. “…yeah,” he says, drawing out the word.
“Let me start over.” She nearly shoves her hand in his face. “Hi, I’m Petra.”
He stares at her for a moment and, against his better judgement, he accepts. Her grip is surprisingly strong, he notices, and her fingernails are incredibly clean and well-kept. “Levi.”
The girl, Petra apparently, smiles brightly. “Nice to meet you, Levi.” The way her mouth twists around the letters of his name, it makes a knot coil in his stomach. And it’s not entirely unpleasant.
He collects the soaked paper towels with a grimace, tossing them into the trash. “For what it’s worth, I knew.”
“Knew what?” she asks, zipping up her backpack.
“That you were joking. Earlier. About the wrong opinion stuff.”
She snorts. “Well, I’m glad.” She pauses for a moment, as if she’s carefully considering her next words. “And for what it’s worth, I was only partially joking.”
Levi tosses the broom back into the supply closet. “What does that mean?”
“All I’m asking is how do you know you don’t like romance novels when you’ve never even given them a fair shot?”
He shrugs. “Don’t need to. They’re all the same anyway,” he says, tying a knot into the trash bag and dragging it to the door.
“Oh, is that so?” He doesn’t fail to catch the mischievous gleam in her eye.
He turns to tell her yes, that is exactly so when she’s suddenly in front of him, thrusting something into his hands. He blinks, hardly able to read the title through the obnoxious calligraphy on the cover.
“The Midnight Bride.” He raises an eyebrow at her. “Seriously?”
She can barely bite back her grin. “You’ll never guess the ending.”
“Let me guess: she gets married at midnight?”
She stares at him as if he’s ruined the game. “…well, you’ll never guess how it happens.” He rolls his eyes, and she adds quickly, “Just give it a chance. Please?”
And maybe it’s her pleading tone or maybe it’s the way that she’s sucked in her lower lip between her teeth, gnawing at it in her nervous state, but it somehow makes her lips look even fuller and Levi finds himself wondering if her mouth is as soft as the rest of her skin. The thought makes his face heat up.
He doesn’t like it.
He sighs, shoving the book into his worn, leather messenger bag. “Fine, I’ll read it, if it’ll shut you up.” Despite his crass tone, she smiles gleefully at him, clapping her hands together, and a soft chuckle rises up in his throat before he can swallow it back down. “C’mon.” He juts his chin at her. “You’re gonna help me finish closing up.”
They spend the next few minutes in comfortable silence, interrupted only by Levi’s instructions for his meticulous closing (and cleaning) schedule. He shows her where the trash needs to be collected and thrown in the dumpster out back, he shows her how to wipe down the front desk, shows her how to process the returned books. She doesn’t complain, she actually takes his direction rather well. He thinks that she’d make a pretty good assistant. If he ever needed one. Which he doesn’t.
When he’s satisfied with their work, she follows him out the front as he locks the door behind her. “Same time next week?” She winks at him, throwing her denim jacket over her shoulders, despite it being a rather warm night. Her face quickly melts into a sheepish expression. “Just kidding. I really am sorry about always being here this late, I just never knew.”
“Tch, it’s fine. I don’t mind the company,” he admits, both to her and to himself.
She nods, just once. “You better have finished that book by next Friday.”
A ghost of a smirk flashes across his face. “Don’t hold your breath.”
She giggles and begins walking backwards in the opposite direction of the parking lot, holding up her hand and giving him a small wave. “See you later, Levi.”
“Night, Petra.”
He makes his way to his car, tossing his bag into the passenger seat, and begins the short drive to his studio apartment not far from campus, thinking of the steaming cup of earl gray that’s waiting for him.
But for some ungodly reason, he can’t help but wonder what an iced caramel macchiato would taste like.
