Loving Voyage(Erwin x Levi)

III

A/N: so this is random but while I was doing my research on the titanic(because I didn't want to be inaccurate about anything) I learned that she sunk four days after parting from Southampton, heading to New York. Which made me think back to the movie and I realized.

Rose fell in love with Jack in the span of four days. It took her FOUR DAYS to fall in love with him. OH WELL. Love knows no boundaries. And the picture at the top is what Erwin's room looks like which is actually what first class rooms on the titanic looked like
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Once everyone had settled down from the departure, Erwin and his father made their way to their rooms. His father had explained over the excited chatter of other people what the plan was for the rest of the day. They were to settle down and get dressed in to more formal attire before heading to the Parisian cafe for dinner with a few of the other first class men. The plan was set in motion, and Erwin rolled with it. He didn't really have a choice in the matter anyway, but still.

He was amazed by the room he was to take residence in.

On the left, three armchairs were set up, all a dark green colour like that of the mid-summer grass back in Southampton. Gold and red designs graced the wall on the strips of paper that covered them. The floor boards were a dark and rich brown that creaked under his feet as he walked across them. The bed was surrounded by curtains a deep shade of red along with the covers which looked extremely comfortable. He wondered how much it would cost for someone to stay in one of these rooms, seeing as they got theirs for free. He set his bags down on the bed and opened one of them to dig around for more formal clothes, like his father had instructed. He pulled out his best suit and laid it out on the bed while he undressed. He slipped his normal, everyday, stained shirt over his head and pulled the clean, crisp, white one on, keeping his undershirt on underneath. He slipped his shoes off and undid his belt before he shimmied out of his trousers and in to the better pair on the bed. He reached for his belt, the buckle silver and expensive, the leather black and smooth, redoing it around the new pants that hugged the curves and muscles in his legs. He put on his pair of dress shoes just as he heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" He asked.

"It's me." His fathers muffled voice replied. "It's time to go."

Erwin lifted his bolo tie from the covers of the bed and admired the gem stone for a short moment before he fastened it around his neck. He shut his suitcase and shrugged on his blazer as he walked out the door of his room, locking it haphazardly to catch up to his father who was already walking down the hallway towards the deck.

They ascended the steps to the deck of the ship, Erwin being temporarily blinded by the sun on his way up. The deck was crawling with people, some dressed to the nines and others wearing what looked like rags. He fixed his already perfect hair as he walked, suddenly subconscious for no reason. He couldn't hear the clicking of his shoes on the wooden boards of the deck over everyone else's. He wondered if he was even walking at all. He could hear fast approaching footsteps fall on the boards, a pitter patter of people who were running toward him. He was sure it was just a group of playful children but when he turned to get a glance he seen three people; one woman and two men, who were running at him at full speed. The one at the front of the group was turned back, addressing the others and obviously not paying attention to where he was going. He turned just soon enough for Erwin to catch the look of surprise on his face before they collided. They went tumbling down on the wooden boards with a loud and dull thud.

"Ow..." Erwin groaned as he clutched his head with one of his hands.

"Watch where you're going." The man hissed. His voice had a very heavy accent that Erwin recognized as being French. He spoke in English though and Erwin thought his words would have been difficult to understand but each vowel was clearly spoken, a sign that the man had been speaking English for quite a while. His jet black hair fell over his face, his bangs hanging in his eyes, as he righted himself steadily. His friends helped him up by holding his forearms.