Memoirs of the Lost Loser

Bargain and Begging

Guilt struck you. The hero has his weakness, like everybody else.

The strongest bears it all.

The strongest can never be honest.

Because if Levi did, it wouldn't be called honesty; it would be called complaining.

And you knew the strongest must never complain.

***

The further your feet took you away from Levi's office, the more uncertain you were about leaving him.

But if you stayed, what comfort could you give?

How would you help someone if they're not asking for help?

And most importantly, how do you help someone stronger than you?

You found yourself staring at a vacant darkness. Fingers fiddling over your drawstrings, your mind was too foggy to think of the more important, more urgent things.

And yet, it worked perfectly when reminiscing about his office's vacant walls, and the erratic breathing of the man telling you to get out.

You wished you did the moment Levi told you to.

And for all it's worth, you didn't know. Nothing in the book told you that the strongest soldier is a different person behind closed doors— I mean, I could've seen that cliché but...

Rational Phoebe: But...?

"Maybe I'm just clueless...?" You muttered to yourself. You didn't know what to make out of what you just saw. You were slow to process what it was or maybe you didn't want to acknowledge the feeling that came with it. Bombs of thoughts relentlessly nuked your head they didn't want to stop.

And you should hate it, accommodating more room for Levi in your head when there are better things you should be thinking about.

With what light the candle burnt for your sake, your visions relished on tracing the lines of your hands where Levi once carefully dressed for you.

He may be rude and bossy but... he wasn't so bad, was he?

"But he lied to me." Your voice withered, just like your resolve.

"No— he broke his engagement just when I'm starting to get close to her ex-fianceé and he's perfectly okay using me as scapegoat. He... he—" A breath caught in your throat, your mind frantically looking for more excuses to justify that he deserved all accusations you threw at him;

And those accusations only needed a few reasons to outweigh them all.

"He's perfectly okay to let soldiers die outside to achieve what Erwin wants— he's selfish, he's entitled just because he's strong yet he has no sense of self, he's a closet liar—"

Optimistic Phoebe: But he's kind to patch you up, boil water for drinks and clean your wounds, always restocks the medicine box for you, and he helped you when you couldn't beat the deadline of the gears, yes?

"So what? Pour me some hot water and suddenly I'm in lov— whoa." You were just in time to catch yourself. You chuckled, stomping the question to oblivion because you didn't like the first answer that almost escaped your lips. Hold on, what were you about to say, huh? Love ? Where did that come from? Crush maybe, but LOVE? Are you that cheap and desperately in need of someone to warm your bed so you settle on the first person to do nice things for you? And say, hypothetically that you did fall in love, you think an outsider like you has the time for the fancy stuff and eventually hurt someone once you find a way to leave?