Shorter Than Me

28 Ecyn

I start by gathering a stack of the papers and then separating them into different piles of category. There are a lot of expedition reports, and I try to keep them in order by date. He's been on a lot of expeditions. He's also survived. There are about twenty papers in the stack right now.

I pick up a group of papers clipped together. The top reads:

Admission Forms

I keep reading.

Levi Ackerman has been admitted to the Scouting Legion under the recommendation of Captain Erwin Smith.

I keep skimming the page.

Home town: the Underground

He's from the Underground? How did he get into the Scouting Legion? How did he meet the Commander... who was a captain at the time? How did he get out of the Underground? Did he have a citizen's access? If he did, why would he live down there?

I make a new pile for 'other' and move on. Now I scan each paper for anything that isn't normal. I know I shouldn't be snooping in his things, but he was the one who invited me in. And this is the place I can get the answers to the questions I've had about him. I don't want to invade his privacy, so I feel really guilty.

I find a handwritten note under some more papers. I have to read it to know which category it goes in.

Levi,

It's someone who knows him well enough to call him by his first name. I glance at the bottom.

Love,

Petra

She's the one that died. She was on his squad. Love. Did she love him? Did he love her?

The sound of footsteps forces me to quickly put it on the 'other' pile. Ackerman emerges from his bedroom. I pick up a new paper and barely glance at it before putting it in the pile for Scout assessments.

"What's that?"

I glance up and see him pointing to my 'other' pile. Maybe he's pointing to the note from Petra, but I decide to pretend I think it's the pile. I pick it up. "It's the things I didn't know how to categorize. What should I do with them?"

"Give them to me," he commands. I obey. He snatches them from my hand, glances through them, and shoves them in a drawer. He shuts it so hard Ferret's cage shakes a little. Then he kneels on the ground on the opposite side of the room and starts sifting through more papers. I continue as well.

Yes, Ferret has a cage. Shhhhhhh.

He's glancing at me a lot, probably making sure I'm not reading anything too closely. I come across yet another letter from Petra and hold it out to him immediately. "Here's another one."

He glares at me as he takes it, putting it in the same drawer as before.

It's another five minutes before I gather enough nerve to ask about it. "Who is Petra?"

I stare at the papers, trying to act like I didn't ask the question. He takes so long to answer I've convinced myself he either didnt hear me or doesn't want to answer.

"She was in my squad." His emotions are carefully hidden from me, not that I'm surprised.

"She wrote you letters."

"Yes, she did."

I glance at him, but he isn't looking at me. His curt answers tell me he doesn't want to tell me anything. It just makes me more curious. I try to think of something I can ask him that isn't too personal. "What's your favorite color?" Good job, Ecyn. Now you sound like you're trying to make conversation where conversation has been dead for years.

"I don't have one."

"Really?" I ask him in disbelief. He doesn't answer. "Fine. Do you like green or blue more?" I keep my eyes away from him.

"Why are you asking me questions?"

Why does he always end up making me feel awkward or like an idiot? "Because there's an awkward silence."

"It wasn't awkward."

"Well maybe it wasn't for you, but it definitely was for me." I don't know where I'm getting the nerve to talk to him like this. He might blow up at any second, or he could attack me. Or he could completely open up and pour out his heart to me. Just the thought puts a shocked look on my face, but I'm looking down so I hope he doesn't notice.

"It wasn't awkward," he repeats.

"Yes it was," I mumble like a child who wants to be right, but knows they're wrong because their mother just told them off for it. Levi is not my mother. After another few seconds, I ask another question. It won't make it any more awkward than it already is. "Do you have any family?"

"No."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Alright." Another pause starts to come up, but I don't let it. "I have a brother and a mother. And a cousin and some uncle out there. And Briine lived with us until he... you know. Um." He doesn't continue the conversation. Maybe I'm tired and maybe I had a shot of alcohol someone offered me before I left the dining hall, but I have to blame something for my sudden courage. Or maybe it's stupidity. "You could help carry the conversation."

"I don't want to have a conversation."

"Well, we're having one right now."

"That was obvious."

There he goes, acting like I'm an idiot again. Maybe I am for actually coming here, and for trying to talk to him. It doesn't matter. We just fall into silence again.

Once the papers are all in nice stacks, we set them on his desk. He'll probably organize them tomorrow or tonight after I leave. I notice one more paper under his chair, which is tucked beneath his desk. I kneel down to grab it, but at the same time, Ackerman leans down too. Our heads smack together and I lurch backward, not wanting my face to be that close to his.

He lets out a curse and snatches the paper, glancing at it for a second before choosing a pile for it. Then he looks at me. "We're done. I don't need your help any more."

I stand back up. "Alright." I step toward the door. I glance back to look at the clock on his desk. Ten forty. We've been here a while.

As I reach for the door handle, I hear him say what I think is, "Thank you." My head snaps back to look at him in surprise, but then I turn it forward as fast as I can.

I open the door, trying to decide if I should say "you're welcome" or not. If he didn't actually thank me, it would be weird if I said "you're welcome." But if he did and I didn't say anything, I would seem rude. He's rude all the time. But I'm not like him. In barely a split second of argument with myself, I decide to say it. I probably heard him thank me or else I wouldn't be paranoid right now. As I'm closing the door, I say, "You're welcome." He doesn't look surprised. Does he? How can I read a blank face in the half-second I take to close the door between us?

I walk back to my room through the silence.

Did you notice? She said we and we're and us. I didn't even do that on purpose. I'm as excited as you... If you're excited. Haha.