he wins the race

teavious:

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin

Pairing: Rivamika

Notes: Merry Christmas, everyone, and happy birthday to Levi! Written for rivamika week, after so many rounds that i’ve been out of this fandom. It’s good to be back. 

The people come and congratulate him, and he has to nod and be polite, Erwin’s glare following his reaction like a second skin, though he feels everything is a little bit unfair, as their freedom came thanks to thousands of soldiers, both dead and still alive, and probably hundreds of scientists who worked day and night. Of course, no one remembers those, even as he wears them heavy on his shoulders, unknown but to those who go through the same thing.

Levi doesn’t agree to this. To all this partying and celebration, when there are so many to mourn, so much to build and rebuild, a lot to relearn. He has to sit through them, though, because his name and status is what comes to the mind of humanity when they think of their recent success. It’s another thing he has to bear, his name, and he does it like he’s done everything up until now: with his head held high and the slightest, constant frown on his face.

In this corner of the room, for now with no one else around, he fails to notice her until she speaks.

“Happy birthday, Levi.”

Her voice sounds as tired as he feels himself. Even if the past days he had more sleep than during the whole month, he’s just tired. He should be happy for what they achieved, he knows, but he’s just tired and he honestly just wants to leave all expectations and work, and allow himself to just breath. He doubts living will ever come to him, after such a long period of barely surviving, so he doesn’t even bother to think of it.

But she is the first person who actually wishes him a happy birthday, and not congratulations (Erwin doesn’t count, because he’s been in meetings all day, and Hanji is still drinking her sorrows over her last experiment titan got killed). He guesses that it happens, when humanity’s freedom happens just a few days before your own birthday. Days get blurred, dates hazy. It’s not the first time, and it’s not the last either. With a glass of drink in his hand, he remembers, though, that she never missed it even once.

Mikasa waits, at least for him to reply, not moving. It’s the first time he sees her in a dress, red like blood, and her fingers are curled in the material.

“Thank you.”

She comes closer to him, leaning on the same shelves as him, their elbows brushing just the littlest bit, her hand going for his glass. He realizes what she wants to do a little too late, and the drink is already at her lips, so he doesn’t even bother anymore.

She sighs, a hand going through her hair, now shorter than he has ever seen it, cut the same night they ended their last mission. It barely even touches her neck now, and he can see small scars all over the skin left visible now, and he idly wonders if they both count their wounds, who will come out with most.

“Have you thought about it?”

He remembers a confession, spoken between hurried gasps of air, as they fought a battle in which they both thought they were going to die. Mikasa has always been a little impulsive, always ready to stomp over an order just to achieve something her heart needs and wants more, because she is the only thing she has for sure and can keep for however she lives, and she’ll do it justice every single time.

His hand touches her, and he can’t believe he’s fumbling while he tries to hold her hand. Lucky she, maybe, saw this coming, because she entwines their fingers together, head leaning closer to rest on his shoulder.

“It took you long enough, Corporal.”

There’s the slightest touch of her lips on his cheek.

“Oh, shut up.”

And he kisses her, because he is sure her next words would have been make me, and at least this time, he’s one step ahead.

December 25   52♥
#rmw #rmw6


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