Chapter Four

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That night, Petra fell into a darkness she'd never known.

Levi had stayed by her side for hours, but unlike every other time they were together, neither could manage a genuine smile nor was there any laughter--what was there to laugh about?

When they bid farewell, Petra fought the urge to cry. What if when he walked out the door, he wouldn't walk in again? What if he died too, and she would be alone?

The rational side of her knew this was foolish, but another wanted desperately to cry out and be held and for him to never leave her side.

But no matter what Petra thought or how much she fought with herself internally, she still laid in the darkness and wept.

* * * *

"How are you feeling?" Levi asks, pulling a stool beside Petra's bed.

"About as well as you'd expect, considering everything that's happened." Petra grumbled, shifting slightly only to having a shooting pain strike through her chest.

Levi hums in response, dipping his finger into a bowl on the bedside table. A folded rag and hair brush sit beside it.

Petra was unsure of how many days had passed since they fought the Female Titan, but she knew that it had been a while since she was last able to bathe properly--she wasn't able to do much of anything properly as of late.

"I'm going to put this towel under your head, is that okay?" Levi asks, holding an unfolded towel in his hands. Petra nodded, still somewhat unsure of what he was aiming for.

Levi does everything he said he would swiftly and without haste, but every movement brought a new pain, but by now Petra has learned to bite her tongue when something hurts--I am a soldier, and soldiers show no pain nor mercy.

Her eyes droop from a sudden exhaustion--she has been more tired than she ever has been before, but Levi said not to worry because it was probably due to the painkillers.

The room falls silent for a moment, but she is startled when a warm rag touches her head.

Levi leans on the bedside, and gently dabs the rag along her forehead. It was soothing, in a strange way.

"What are you doing?" Petra murmurs.

"Washing your hair," Levi replies simply. "You're still bedridden and haven't been able to bathe, so I figured I'd help--unless you want me to stop?"

"No, no... keep going. It feels nice." Petra says, smiling to herself.

Levi works silently, and only the occasional sigh is uttered.

He parted her hair into sections and ran the rag over them individually with warm water--with no soap, Levi knew it wouldn't do much, but it would do something, and most of it wasn't to wash Petra's hair, it was to comfort her.

Levi worked with nimble fingers, taking the locks of hair that had once been voluminous and lush, but now fell limp and thin. Maybe the water will bring some of the life back, and maybe Petra would look like herself again.

"Here, let me see your hand." Levi mumbles, holding his palm open. Petra slowly places her hand in his, not out of nervousness but an ache that coursed through every nerve and every cell in her body.

Levi took her frail hand in his and began to run the rag across her skin.

Petra wore a thin nightdress that did not belong to her, with short sleeves that only barely came over her shoulders--Levi used that, and brought the rag all the way up to her shoulders.

He stood, and moved over to sit beside Petra's legs, and leaned across to do the same to her other arm.

Once he had finished, he went to move again but, despite the ache, Petra grabbed onto Levi's upper leg and whispered, "You can stay there on the bed, if you'd like."

Levi smiles faintly before muttering a soft okay, and folding the rag again and laying it back beside the bowl.

"Thank you... for that." Petra murmured, her hand still resting on his upper leg.

"You don't need to thank me." Levi responded.

"Yes, I do." Petra twirled her thumb in circular motions, smiling. "You're helping me, and you don't have to help me, so I will thank you every chance I get." She pauses, and grins again. "So, thank you."

Levi chuckles softly, placing his hand on top of Petra's. He glances at their overlapped hands before muttering, "I do it because I don't want you to be in pain, and even if it's something as simple as helping you wash your hair, then I will. You've already been through hell, and I don't want you to go through more with this recovery."

Petra just stared blankly, unsure of what to say--what could she say?

She had a sudden idea, and didn't think it through before attempting to act.

She gripped Levi's leg in a vain attempt to pull herself upwards, and strained herself to sit up--but before she could even get to her elbows, Levi pushed her back down onto the bed. She frowned.

"You can't get up right now, Petra, you're still injured--you have a spinal injury, remember?" Levi shakes his head when he sees Petra's frown grow. "Oh, quit pouting. What did you want so badly that you needed to get up in your condition?"

"Well, I wanted to sit upright with you and hug, but I guess I can't do that now." Another thought flashes through her head. "But you could do something."

"What could I do?" Levi asks.

"Instead of me coming to you, you could come to me." She says, and smiles shyly again. "Please?"

Levi rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, and begins to lean beside her. He rests his forehead on Petra's shoulder.

"Closer," Petra says.

"Okay, fine." Levi whispers, dragging his head along her shoulder with his nose dancing along her collarbone.

He moves closer, their faces barely touching as his skin grazes hers.

Finally, after a painstakingly long tease, Levi presses his lips against Petra's with a gentleness known only to Petra.

For a moment, they're back in that little nook in the Scout Headquarters, smiling and laughing in the orange glow of the torches.

They're alone, and happy--they cling to one another in the shadows and darkness.

They allow themselves a moment of bliss before they come back to the living hell they call reality. 

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