𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟭𝟱𝟵𝟲

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...

Levi doesn't date.

Not because he's incapable of love, quite the opposite. But romance is foreign to him, something distant, like a world he was never meant to step into. He is a man of routine, and if there's anything he relies on, it's order.

And somehow, in his carefully structured life, there is no room for romantic relationships. Not because he actively avoids them, (okay, that's a lie, he definitely does), but because he never seeks them out. Any relationship he's ever had was initiated by someone else — someone persistent enough to withstand his bluntness, his disinterest, his obsession with cleanliness and control.

Most people in his life are still there because they don't offend easily. They can handle his sharp words, his perpetual irritation, his unwavering need for structure.

The few who remain —like Erwin and Hange— are the rare exceptions. Both annoying in their own ways, but the three of them understand each other without needing to say much. Or rather, without Levi needing to say much. Hange talks enough for all of them, and Erwin has a way with words that Levi respects, even if he doesn't always respond.

So how did Levi manage to catch the attention of a librarian?

It wasn't something he noticed right away. You were good at hiding it — your intrigue, your curiosity. If it weren't for the lingering glances when you thought he wasn't looking, the way you nibbled your bottom lip, or how your posture stiffened when he walked past, he probably wouldn't have given you a second thought.

And that's all it was.

A second thought.

Levi doesn't date.

It's not in his nature. And he really doesn't need intrusive questions clouding his mind right now.

Today isn't his day. Not that he's ever particularly happy, but this week has been long, his students are incompetent, and the tea shop he frequents is already closed.

He's here for a textbook — a reference for his lectures. He's hoping to find it here so he doesn't have to resort to the local library, which is dustier, less organized, and frankly, a place he'd rather avoid.

Erwin isn't here. He knows that because the blond texted him earlier, saying he wouldn't be able to meet up due to some "trouble in paradise," as Hange put it. Levi doesn't care. It's bullshit — a distraction from more important matters.

In fact, nobody is here right now.

Except you.

You're staying late — probably catching up on work. A stack of books is cradled against your chest as you move toward the back shelves with practiced ease. You're not new at this.

Levi knows that already. He's seen you around plenty.

Still, for some reason, this feels like the first time he's actually looking at you.

And he wonders if it's the same for you.

Because no matter how hard he tries, he can't stop the intrusive thoughts. The questions. The curiosity.

Why are you acting this way now?

The two of you have hardly spoken in the years you've worked here.

He's never had a reason to. You've never had a reason to. He comes here to grade papers in silence, to grab a book and leave. And usually, Erwin is here, so if he needs to check something out, he does it through him.

So maybe it's a third or fourth thought he's spent on you.

Mainly because he's confused.

He isn't sure if your sudden shift in demeanor around him is in his head, or if he's right.

After sitting his messenger bag in a desk at one of the clean, polished tables, Levi moves toward the back shelves, where thick criminology textbooks line the walls. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his sharp gaze scanning the rows of titles with critical precision. His frown deepens as he picks up a few books, flipping through them, searching for something close to what he needs.

Then his ears perk slightly — light footsteps receding.

Shit.

If he wants to be sure the book is here, he'll have to talk to you.

Levi sighed through his nose, shoulders stiffening slightly. He wasn't fond of unnecessary interactions, and asking for help —especially for something as mundane as a damn book— was an inconvenience he didn't need right now.

Still, it was either this or wasting more time, and he wasn't about to do that.

His gaze flicked toward the main desk, where you had just settled, your fingers lightly drumming against the surface of a hardcover book. A textbook. His textbook.

Levi paused, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Had you already pulled it?

The thought barely had time to settle before you glanced up, gaze meeting his with a fleeting but knowing expression. There was something in your eyes — a flicker of awareness, of hesitance, of calculation.

You knew exactly what he had come here for.

Levi approached, measured but direct, his footsteps heavy against the polished floors. The space between you both wasn't far, but it still felt too deliberate, too intentional for two people who had ignored each other for years.

You tilted your chin up slightly, an attempt at neutrality, but Levi saw the way your fingers tightened around the book's edges.

Interesting.

He stopped just short of the desk, eyes dragging over the cover before flicking back up to yours.

You glanced up as he neared, eyes flickering over his face before settling on his sleeve-rolled forearms — just for a split second. Levi noticed everything, and now, unfortunately, that included you noticing him.

Damn it.

"You pull that for me?"

Not a greeting. Not a request. Just an observation — delivered with his usual sharpness.

You blinked, just once, then exhaled softly, pushing the book forward across the desk's surface toward him.

"Erwin said you'd be looking for it."

Levi stilled.

Erwin.

Of course.

Levi said nothing as he picked up the book, his fingers skimming over the worn pages. He knew Erwin well enough to recognize when he was meddling — quietly, subtly, irritatingly. It wasn't an accident that you had the only copy ready before he even asked.

But Levi didn't call it out.

He glances back at you, briefly, but you look away.

Interesting.

So, was this a confirmation to all of Levi's questions?

Well, he still had his doubts. But if he was wrong, what was the meaning of this interaction? It never had to happen. He could've just as quickly found the damn book on his own. Instead, Erwin told you. Therefore, forcing him to ask for assistance.

But he never had to, because you knew what he needed the moment he stepped inside. And yet, you waited. Waited for his inevitable approach.

What does that tell him?

He wasn't sure if he liked the answer.

Finally, you parted your lips hesitantly. "Is... was that all?" You swallow, a subtle bob in your throat at the action, your eyes still planted anywhere that wasn't him.

Levi studied you for a moment, the weight of his gaze settling as he considered the question.

Was that all?

A simple inquiry. A routine exchange. Nothing worth another thought. And yet, here you were, shifting in your seat, avoiding his eyes, waiting for an answer as if it held more significance than it should.

That alone confirmed something.

He wasn't imagining it. This shift —this tension— was real.

His grip on the textbook tightened slightly, thumb pressing into the worn spine. His gaze flicked over you once — brief, assessing, definitive.

"Yes," he said finally, his voice low, controlled, giving nothing away.

Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but Levi caught it, saw the way your fingers curled slightly against the desk's surface.

The corner of his mouth twitched — not a smile, but something close to amusement.

You were actually quite terrible at hiding things, weren't you?

You nodded, a quick, fleeting movement before turning toward your desk, busying yourself with closing procedures.

Levi remained still for a moment, watching as you moved with practiced ease — shutting down computers, locking away different reading materials, checking the library aisles one last time before heading toward the main doors.

Without another word, Levi turned, textbook in hand, pacing toward the far end of the library where he typically worked in silence.

But for the first time — silence didn't feel quite as predictable as it used to.

You hesitated before turning to him, still maintaining the distance between the two of you, arms crossing loosely over your chest almost protectively.

"I'm locking up now," you say, tone nearly even aside from the slight hitch in your breath at the end of that last syllable. "...Do you have your key card?"

Levi looks up from the book he's been skimming, brief but assessing, dark eyes flicking over you before answering.

"Hn." A quiet acknowledgment, nothing more. He reaches into his back pocket, retrieves his faculty ID, holding it up between two fingers for exactly long enough for you to see before tucking it away again.

You nod, shifting slightly.

"Alright."

You reached for the keys at your hip, slipping them into the lock, twisting it with a quiet click before pulling the door shut behind you.

Levi's gaze lingered on the glass panes for a second longer than necessary.

And just like that, you're gone, but for some reason, the weight of your presence still hung in the air.

The library was silent again.

That left Levi alone with his work, his thoughts, and the weird way his heart rate slowed down. His brows twitched, as if in surprise. He hadn't realized his heart was beating so fast. Was he anxious?

What for?

Damn, does he need some tea.

It's a miracle he's still functioning. The lack of tea consumption for the past however many hours went by between now and this afternoon was clearly affecting his heart.

So, Levi doesn't date.

Not because he's incapable of love, quite the opposite. But romance is foreign to him.

Besides, what does he and little miss runaway have in common anyway?