Spring quickly made way for summer and summer meant warm weather, beautiful sunsets, late nights, and disgusting amounts of humidity. While always an ill omen for nasty, sweaty days and an awful hair day to boot, this humidity of course unfortunately brought with it thunderstorms. Or at least it would. Eventually. If ever this summer decided to bring one along.

Summer had only just begun but so far, it'd been rather tame, at least by my standards... my standards obviously being how I knew the summers to be here where we lived. It was tame. That was all.

However, I knew it was just biding its time and all too soon we'd have our first big storm of the season. So far, we'd had lots of rainfall, plenty of humidity, and stretches of days with nothing but dry heat. At this point, I knew the weather was just toying with me, waiting for me to let my guard down before throwing a storm our way.

Not that I had a problem with the storms, no. Not particularly. But Levi...

All these years later, his mind still feared the flashes of lightning, the rain pounding against the window, and the rumbling of thunder as it rolled across the land. If I asked, he'd get defensive, and tell me how stupid it was to fear something so trivial and then clam up about it.

But he couldn't help it. Not when he'd had to watch his two closest, dearest friends – Farlan and Isabel – die during one such storm.

To his mind, all storms were the same. They were omens of ill-fate. Terrible harbingers of pain and fear... and death.

It all felt like a fictitious tale, to be frank. For so many awful things to happen to one person... Life could be cruel, yes, endlessly cruel to those that didn't deserve it, but this? For him to be forever plagued by the fear of losing more people that he cared about all because it was stormy out?

It was awful, and yet while I might enjoy drinking tea and watching the storms go by, he loathed them. I had it easy. I really did. How many storms had there been in my lifetime, where I'd hardly batted an eye to them? During some I would look out of the window longingly. During others I would nap. During others I would do... literally anything. But Levi...

Now that we lived together, I could be there for him during the nights when all that could be heard were the storms. I could comfort him. I could try to bring his mind some peace, and perhaps allow him to get some rest on those awful nights. I could make up for all the time we'd spent away from each other, all the nights he'd needed to deal with them on his own.

I could maybe... help him work through this fear.

That's exactly what I planned to do.

I wasn't sure if it would work or if I could even do it, but I would at least try.

Because he didn't deserve to fear something so normal, so natural, so frequent. He didn't deserve to fear anything, no one did. But especially not him, and especially not something like this. I was prepared to help him as best I could.

All I had to do was wait for a storm... and I knew we both were dreading it, for he so hated them, and I so hated to see him suffer.

And as life always worked out, what you were dreading always came so much quicker than things you were excited for.

---

I stood idly now at the apartment window, one hand holding the curtain back so I could see outside. The window was open, but the air coming in was stagnant and humid and gross. I'd wanted to let a breeze in, but it was just so muggy outside, it was disgusting. I closed the window with an impatient huff. What an awful day.

There was a storm brewing. That was obvious. The sky was a dull, murky gray. The entire world outside this apartment seemed to be still, holding its breath, anticipating the first storm of the season. It was only early evening and yet it looked to be well past sunset with the dark gray clouds rolling far above head.

I locked the windows just as the first drops of rain fell against the glass, their gentle pitter patter a welcome sound, a calming sort of white noise, against the stifling silence of the apartment.

Today was Friday. Levi had gone out grocery shopping and was likely to come home soon. I hadn't gone with him because I just hadn't wanted to go anywhere today, to be frank. It was just one of those days.

One of those days where no matter what you did, you felt exhausted and disgusting all day. I was bored and tired and sad all at once and it was awful. So much for enjoying my day off.

A long week at work having to go in early and stay late just to pick up the slack others dropped had left me drained and all I'd wanted to do was stay home today, on my day off. Levi had granted me that and went to do the shopping alone.

He was, of course, always more than willing to do things for me if I so desired. It's just who he was, and how he operated. He showed his love through actions but not only that, but through acts of service. He always had to be doing something.

He wasn't a lazy person, nor someone who could stay in bed all day no matter how tired he was. For him to be able to do something for someone else, especially those he truly cared about, gave him a sense of purpose. As someone who loved him so much, to see him burden himself with so much responsibility and never accept help was hard.

But I did what I could for him, and I always would.

He was worth that much to me.

And anyway, I'd done more than my fair share of housework today, doing some cleaning and organizing and the like, so it wasn't like I lazed about all day even if I wanted to.

When the rain grew heavier, I let the curtain fall closed with a sigh. I walked to the couch and dropped down onto it. My eyes, as though willed by the soothing sounds of the rain outside, fluttered closed. I had half a mind to take a nap but with it this far into the evening already, it'd screw up my sleep schedule further than it already was.

I decided not to risk it, and instead reached for the remote. Nothing left to do but wait, I suppose, until Levi got home. Then we could make dinner and maybe watch some movies before bed. All I could really do was hope that the storm tonight – for it was inevitable that it would start storming in earnest soon – wouldn't be that bad.

But to ask that of a storm in the summer here, with as humid as it was... it was a fever dream.

I flipped through the channels to search for something to watch, but when that search proved fruitless, I switched over to what was recorded, only for those shows to be unappealing at the moment as well. I went through the streaming services, even YouTube, in search of literally anything to hold my interest until Levi got home.

It was useless.

I was tired, I was bored, and I was anticipating a large storm to roll through, in which case my boredom would be the least of my concerns. I grabbed my phone, sending a text to Levi to remind him to be safe getting home in the rain.

And then my exhaustion overtook me, and I fell asleep there on the couch.

---

Like any good nap, I woke up disoriented and not knowing what damn century it was, much less where I was.

My first instinct was to roll over and look at the alarm clock by my bed to check the time. It was the result of unfortunately waking up earlier than my alarm for school and work for years and making sure I had time to go back to bed. Of course, that worked only if I was in my bed and could roll over to check the time.

What I didn't realize was that I was on the couch. So when I rolled over, I fell.

I fell right off the couch and to the carpeted floor below. A quick yelp escaped my lips as the sensation of falling the short distance took me over and I scrambled to get my feet beneath me or my arms to brace my fall or anything but as it happened, I'd been tucked into a blanket and couldn't.

And so I landed on my stomach on the floor with an oof as the air escaped my lungs in a rush.

"Son of a bitch, that hurt," I muttered when I coughed and got some air back into my body. Suddenly, someone stepped into my field of vision just inches before me and I rolled onto my side to smile up at Levi. "Hi, baby. When did you get home?"

He was in sweats and a shirt, and had his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at me. "A few minutes ago."

"That must be why I woke up," I said, starting to sit up and disentangle myself from the blanket. As soon as my arms were free Levi lifted a hand towards me. I took it and he helped me up. I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek before stepping away to fold the blanket and set it back on the arm of the couch. "How long was I asleep?"

"If you fell asleep right after sending that text," he said, "then an hour."

"An hour? It took you that long to get home?"

I sat on the couch, gesturing for him to sit as well. He did, lounging back against the arm to face me seated on the other end. He'd turned the TV off, it seemed. And since he'd clearly tucked me in as well... I nearly smiled. He was just too sweet, no matter how he'd try to deny it.

"People drive like idiots in the rain."

I nodded. I couldn't argue with that. "Was there a lot of traffic on the highway?"

"Yeah. There were several accidents."

Well, that would explain it. "You should've woken me up when you got home," I said. "I'd have helped with the groceries."

"It wasn't a lot," he argued. "I handled it just fine."

I pouted, knowing damn well that it wouldn't work on him. It never had. I doubted it ever would. "I know you can handle it," I protested, "but you still should've asked me for help."

He didn't reply after that. Only the downpour of rain outside reached our ears.

In many ways, I loved days like this. Something about the rain washing everything away was nice to think about. The first rays of sun that emerged after the rain were a fresh start for everything. The rain washed away everything unsavory, everything unclean, and everything unsavory. The rain cooled the land, refreshing it, giving it the sustenance it required. The world was always left a little greener after the rain.

Barring what it did for the land, I just liked the way it sounded, the way it looked, the way it smelled. For there was a certain kind of smell to the rain. It was fresh and clean and pure, and it was wonderful.

I only wished that one day, Levi might learn to enjoy it with me.

"Levi," I said slowly, piecing the words together as I spoke them aloud, "why don't you go ahead and take a bath? I'll make dinner for us tonight."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"There's a catch, isn't there?"

"You always think I'm up to something..."

"Because you are."

"I'm not," I said with a laugh. "Not this time, anyway. Don't you trust me?"

"You don't want me to answer that."

I frowned, baiting him into feeling bad. "I just thought you should relax from the week," I said quietly, which was true. But he knew I was messing with him. I only hadn't expected him to play along.

"Come here," he said, his words a gentle command.

I smiled and obliged, crawling across the couch to reach him. I knew where he wanted me without him needing to say a thing. I sat in his lap sideways, his arms coming around me to keep me close and secure. A kiss was pressed to my temple and, as though to reassure me, he set his hand on my head to guide me to let it rest against his shoulder. I smiled and snuggled against him happily.

"Rainy nights are the best nights for a nice warm bath," I told him quietly.

"Join me," he offered, looking away in a bashful sort of way. He must have been embarrassed to request such a thing, because he began to backpedal. "Only if you want."

"Well," I said playfully, "I was going to start on dinner, but..."

"We can make it together after," he said. "You know I usually do it anyway, dumbass."

"Harsh words from someone who wants me to take a bath with him," I teased.

"What, is that a no, then?"

"I'll bathe with you if you apologize," I said, tilting my head back to see him. He looked down at me, his gaze even and measured and wonderfully aloof, and even a bit pouty.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "Happy now?"

"Very," I said with a delighted hum. "Carry me to the bath, and I'll forgive you." Levi opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "Don't bother calling me a brat. I already know."

His mouth shut with a near-audible snap. "That... is not what I was going to say."

I didn't believe that for a second.

"Mm-hm," I hummed, far too content in his arms to argue further.

---

It was only when we were risking getting all pruny and wrinkly from the bath that we got out.

There was something so incredibly intimate about bathing with him. Whenever we bathed together, he never allowed me to clean myself... at least, not completely by myself. Rather, gently and painstakingly, he would help me, lathering my back or washing my hair or sometimes, even more.

If after a night between the sheets, he would so often clean me more himself, giving my sore body a rest while lavishing me in cherishing touches and hushed words telling me how I did. He so rarely felt comfortable enough to use his words to talk about something that delicate, that sensitive, and that intimate. But in those moments when it felt like we were the only two people in the world... he would tell me.

Even if he didn't talk about them then, I'd always know how he felt, because he made it so clear in his actions.

Nothing ulterior happened during this bath, surprisingly enough. The tub was hardly big enough for the two of us to share so I'd leaned back against his chest as we soaked silently, until we decided to start getting clean. And when we were ready to get out, we did, with him getting out first to grab a towel, offer me a hand to help step out, and then he wound the towel around my shoulders for me.

"Dry yourself off," I said with a laugh when it became clear that his intentions were to dry me off first. "You're going to get sick, Levi!"

"Let me do this," he said, his hands rubbing up and down my arms with the towel.

"Levi," I said again, only to shake my head with disbelief as he continued. "I do know how to do this myself."

"You did the cleaning today," he said, as though that explained it. And maybe for him, anyway... maybe it did. Maybe it was all he needed.

He began to dry my chest off, and suddenly I was hyperaware of his focus. I wasn't sure why, with all that we did together, that this was what would make me so suddenly bashful, but it was.

Maybe it was because no one had ever looked at me like this, as though I was a piece of fine art that required such careful upkeep, only one specialized person was able to maintain it. No one had looked at me like this. He was looking at me like I was perfect. Like I was everything he could ever want and need. He didn't need to say it, because it was all displayed so clearly in his eyes and conveyed in his movements.

And I was struck by the full force of his love and his care at that moment, and I tucked my hand beneath his chin to make him look at me. "And you did the shopping," I finally countered gently, my voice just a whisper. "You know you don't owe me anything, right?"

He took a moment to answer. "I know," he said. The words, simple though they were, told me that he didn't feel obligated. This was his choice.

And this close, I could see that the reverence in his eyes hadn't diminished or dimmed in any way; rather, it'd only shifted and now, instead of treating my body as though it was made of the most delicate glass, he was regarding me as though this was the first time that he'd seen that piece of fine art.

I wondered if my own eyes were that expressive.

I could only hope they were, because I wasn't sure if there were enough words, or if I even knew the words, required to tell him the true scope of what I felt for him. My love ran so deep, the words I love you didn't seem to be enough.

He was a man who believed more in the strength of actions and in servicing me as best he could, that was how he showed his love. But what could I do...?

I leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. When I drew away, I smiled at him, for the action filled my chest with light and butterflies and warmth. And if the blissful look on his face was any indication, subtle though it was, then it had the same effect on him as well.

"I love you," I said. "More than words can ever say."

"Me too."

And then he returned to drying me off. It was warm in the apartment, so I wasn't terribly concerned about getting sick, nor was I concerned about the knowledge that one of us would have to clean the floor in here now that we were dripping water on it. The bathmat was small, of course.

But I didn't mind.

When I was dry, I got a fresh towel and didn't let him even begin to start drying himself before I got to work. I tended to his hair and his neck and his shoulders, placing a kiss to the warmed skin whenever a section was clean and dry.

This was a strange thing, I was sure, and yet it was so uniquely Levi – and so uniquely us – that I found it to be perfect. There was something so special about being so comfortable with someone that something like this was able to happen, but it was wonderful.

I already knew his body so well, and now to be taking care of it in a different way than I did when between the sheets or even helping wash his back like I had moments before, it was a beautiful thing. And it was like I was getting to know his body more, paying attention to it not with lust tinting my gaze, but with love. Nothing but love.

His skin was smooth, and if not for the few scars he had from years of living on the street and fighting, it would be unblemished. He was pale, even for all his time outside. No freckles, no moles, nothing, just unmarked skin stretched across taut muscles.

When we were dry, we made our way to the bedroom. Levi didn't even give me a chance to reach for my own clothes before his own were tossed my way. I caught the shirt and boxers effortlessly and pulled them on. This shirt was an old one, perhaps when he was a bit younger. It didn't hang loosely on my frame but actually hugged my curves well.

I ran my hands along the fabric as he started to get dressed himself. This shirt was of well-worn cotton, easily washed a hundred times before. The design was faded and there was no guessing at what it might have been before.

"Come on," he said, pulling me from my thoughts. "We need to figure out what we're doing for dinner."

I followed him out of the bedroom and to our humble kitchen. I went through the pantry as he checked the fridge. With all the new groceries, there were lots of choices, all we had to do was pick something. "It's going to be a stormy night," I said, closing the pantry. "How about your favorite? A stew?"

I glanced over at him just in time to see him nod. I knew he only didn't reply with a verbal yes because he was still so unused to people paying attention to his favorites, to people wanting to have what he liked. He grew up without having the ability to be so picky, and so when I'd taught him how... Needless to say, he was working on it. But that's what I was here for.

We got to work. The two of us worked very well together and that certainly showed in how we were able to get a stew going without so much as a word uttered between us. When the prep work was done and we were waiting for it to be ready we meandered into the living room, collapsing onto the couch to watch a movie together.

When the meal was ready, we ate together at the table and then when everything was clean and put away it was back to the couch that we returned. As the sky darkened and the rain outside continued to pour, we did little more than cuddle on the couch as a marathon of old movies played.

Tomorrow we both had another day off, thankfully. I imagined tomorrow would go a little like this. And that was perfectly fine with me. Actually... I think I'd quite like it.

I tilted my head back to see Levi, leaning against his side as I was. He seemed perfectly content to let me lay against him, rubbing his thumb back and forth across my waist. He noticed me looking at him and glanced down at me with a look that seemed to ask what the hell I was doing. I smiled bashfully up at him before looking back at the TV. He gave my waist a gentle squeeze.

Something told me Levi would enjoy it too, if tomorrow was just like this.

---

The storm, of course, waited until Levi and I were getting ready to fall asleep to start. The rain had remained consistent, a steady downpour that continued to beat against the windows of the apartment. Its rhythm was soothing to me, lulling me ever closer to sleep when we were just watching movies in the living room.

When I yawned, Levi told me to head to bed. Of course, I knew how Levi was, and he never went to bed at a reasonable time unless I dragged him there. Tonight he'd been especially hesitant to head to bed, and I obviously knew the reason why.

With the storm, he didn't want to fall asleep, because he knew how it would end. He would either lie their restlessly all night or be forced from what little sleep he got by nightmares. And that wasn't yet considering the sound of the storm keeping him up as well.

The lightning wasn't likely to be an issue, because we had dark curtains closed tight over the only window in the bedroom. Only... maybe that'd make it worse. It'd make the thunder an unwelcome surprise, if we didn't get that warning flash of lightning first. Maybe the curtains were a bad idea.

Regardless, whether or not there was lightning, there would still be thunder. And even that was bad enough for his mind to drag him back to that night.

That night, of course, being when Farlan and Isabel had died. They were the first two that Levi dared to reach out to and decide to trust after his mother died, his uncle abandoned him, and he was left to fend for himself on the streets.

Left only with the love his mother had instilled in him, the knowledge of how to fight his uncle had taught him, the clothes on his back and a knife, he'd become a street rat. He became a blight on the police force's limited resources and a thorn in their side. He became something of a phantom within the network of orphanages in the cities he frequented. He'd get caught, get thrown into an orphanage, and escape shortly after.

Such an awful way to grow up, and yet... it led him to be the way he was today.

Arguably, the most important lesson he'd ever been taught was love, for it balanced all the horrors in his life growing up. His mother had loved him so completely, so wholly, and so purely, that it provided a good framework for him to grow to love others.

His uncle had worked to undo all that, of course, by teaching him that no one could be trusted, that he would have to fight, and that he couldn't be above drawing the blood of another if it meant he would win.

Levi's heart was big. He had this great heart that pounded in his chest like a drum, offering to him the easiest rhythm to follow and yet all that his uncle taught him forced him to ignore it.

He'd hurt people. He'd stolen from others. He never allowed himself to stay in one place for long, lest he develop an attachment to the places and things and people he encountered. And for a dirty street rat, that was unacceptable, and would only bring more trouble.

He was someone who, if I had perhaps met him while he was still so akin to hurting others, that I would be scared of. Hell, there was no denying that I'd be absolutely frightened of him.

But of course, I hadn't grown up that way.

It was such a shame he had grown up as he had because his heart was so finely tuned to loving others... and yet his heart had to close itself off. It was a precautionary measure, one meant to protect his heart from the troubles of trusting others. Those he loved and trusted always eventually left him.

His mother, even that bastard Kenny... for a child, that was enough. People who were his only living family, and they were gone from his life.

And when finally he decided to ignore his instincts and learn to trust Farlan and Isabel, they were killed right in front of him.

How could his brain not always return to that night, after seeing such horrors?

We got into bed together, by my request. He wanted to stay up, to prolong having to fall into a restless, unproductive sleep riddled with his nightmares, but I felt like I needed to find a way for him to get sleep on nights like this. He couldn't pull all-nighters all the time and during the summer, we were far too susceptible to this kind of weather. And on a work night, it wouldn't do him any good to not get any sleep.

I was rather at a loss, and absolutely without a plan, but I needed to do something.

May as well go with the flow.

"Come here," I chimed happily, getting on my side and opening my arms around him once I was under the blanket. Levi rolled his eyes and made a comment about my impatience before obliging. "Hide it all you want," I teased, "but I know you love it."

"If believing that helps you sleep at night," he muttered.

"So mean," I huffed, abruptly rolling over. Expecting to land in my arms, when I rolled away, he landed on his stomach with a grunt. I couldn't keep up the façade of being upset anymore and began to laugh. His arms came around me, pulling me back to him.

"You think that's funny, do you?"

"Yes, actually," I said, looking back at him. And then I saw his pout. "You're actually the cutest. Did you know that?"

"I'm not," he argued.

That was when the first roll of thunder rumbled the apartment. We both were surprised and whipped around to look towards the window.

"Of course it waits until now to start storming," I muttered, glaring uselessly at the window. Levi didn't reply. Without needed to ask I knew that his heart was hammering in his chest, threatening to burst from body at any moment. "Let's just try to get some sleep, ok?"

I pulled myself from his arms only long enough to turn the light off. Then I returned to his side, rolling over to cuddle up against his chest. "Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight," he said, then paused. His arms tightened around me slightly. He made himself take a deep breath in before letting his head rest atop the pillow. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, then ducked my head under his chin. I heard him swallow hard as though to force himself to relax before speaking more. "Goodnight, you brat."

It wasn't much longer into the night that I was woken up by what sounded like a strained gasp. It sounded strange, if only because it wasn't something I heard often. It was startling and immediately my instincts kicked in and I was wide awake despite having been in such a peaceful slumber just moments ago.

"Levi," I said right away, my instincts cluing me into exactly where I was and who I was last with.

He was sitting up just before me, clearly having sat up after waking up from what was presumably a nightmare. The apartment rumbled with another wave of thunder, and I slowly sat up. The blanket slid from my torso, leaving me chilled and letting rise a host of goosepimples on my arms but that was not my concern right now.

"Levi," I repeated. I reached out tentatively with the intent to touch his arm, but he shied away before I could.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, yanking the blanket away from his body. He got up from the bed and began to pace back and force by the foot of the bed. I glanced at the digital alarm clock on my nightstand.

2:39 am. It wasn't terribly late. On a night out, we'd still be out somewhere.

But for a night like this one, where we spent the day together in the quiet of our home, it was far too late. This was a dreadful hour to be awake. And to be forced awake by his fears...

"Come back to bed," I said gently.

"Why? So you can talk at me?"

"Maybe," I said, ignoring his snark for now. I didn't blame him for it, not now. "But pacing will get you nowhere. If I talk at you for a while, you might just fall back asleep."

"If I go back to sleep," he argued sternly, looking back at me, "I'll only be woken up again." His eyes narrowed and he turned away with a scowl. "This is bullshit!'

"What is?"

No answer.

I sighed. "Talk to me, baby, I can't help if you don't."

"I don't need your help!"

Well, that wasn't very nice.

"Therapy, then," I suggested plainly. "If you don't want my help, then go look for a professional. But I'm here right now and willing to help you and if you don't want that, then I think you can go spend your morning in the living room because I want to eventually go back to sleep. Ideally, I want you here with me, but if you're going to push me away, then I won't waste our time."

"I'm not..." He sighed, then turned to face me. "I'm not angry with you. I shouldn't have... fuck, I'm stupid."

"I agree," I said, leaning back on my hands. He lowered his hands from his face, releasing a quick breath of air.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm not upset with you. I'm angry at something else, so I..."

"I get it," I said softly. "You're frustrated."

"I didn't mean to snap at you," he said.

"I know."

"No, that's not... it's not enough. I..."

I knew what he was trying to say. I want your help. I need your help. Please.

But they were words so hard for him to say, and so he showed me. He returned to the bed and sat next to me. The mattress dipped with the addition of his weight, and I hesitated in reaching out to him. So I waited.

I was glad I did, because he reached out to me. Sitting cross-legged and facing me, he reached out to grab my hands. I shifted to face him and sit more comfortably before him.

"Tell me," I said gently, "what was the bullshit you mentioned?"

"That I'm still..."

It was his turn to hesitate. "Go ahead," I prompted, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze. It must have brought him some courage because he began to speak once more.

"It's bullshit that I'm still affected by it. It's been years. I shouldn't... It... I can't..."

"What you saw," I said, "was something no one should ever have to see. You were so close to them and what happened to them was horrible. Anyone would be affected by them, Levi."

"I'm stronger than this," he hissed.

"You are strong," I agreed. "It doesn't make you weak to still feel something about that day."

"Why the hell can't I just get over it? Why does it still..."

"They were your friends," I reiterated, gently cutting him off, "and you saw them die. That's hard, Levi. You're strong, so strong, to have gone what you have. But it's not as easy as just saying you'll get over it. It's a painful memory but..."

"I don't want to forget them," he said quietly.

"Forgetting is not the same as moving on," I told him.

"Then what would you have me do?" He asked. "It's been how fucking long, and I still can't handle sleeping during these damn storms?"

"I think... it haunts you like this because it's what you think about whenever you think of them."

"What do you mean...?"

"Think of Farlan and Isabel. What pops up first in your mind?"

No answer.

"Levi," I said gently, "work with me. I think we both know the answer."

"Their deaths," he finally answered reluctantly, as though it pained him to admit it.

"What's your favorite memory of them together?"

"We... (Y/n), this isn't going to work."

"How do you know that?"

"Just... talking about this won't change a damn thing."

"You're only saying that because it's embarrassing. But you don't have to tell me, of course. You can write it down, or just think about it, and you might just see a difference."

"(Y/n)," he sighed, still unsure.

"I used to be scared of this old horror movie," I told him. "It was so stupid and campy and bad, but it had this one really bad jump scare that got me so bad. It came on I think the first time I had a sleepover at Hange's place, back in middle school. Hange loved it but I was terrified of it. I had nightmares for a few nights after seeing it, but Hange would just go on and on about how funny it was. After a few days, I watched it again, focusing just on what Hange said was funny, and..."

"This isn't the same thing."

"I know that. All I'm saying is that a change in perspective might be all you need. If when you think of Farlan and Isabel you immediately think of how they died, of course it's going to haunt you like this. But you had a lot of good times with them, didn't you?"

"They were..."

"Like your family," I finished for him when it became clear he wouldn't.

And he nodded, his eyes meeting mine. In the dim light in the room sneaking through the break in the curtains, I could only just see him. And yet what little I could see showed me that he was letting the walls around his heart down. He was being vulnerable, something so very foreign to him.

He looked down. "Isabel used to... She had a soft spot for animals. When we would hide out in that park we used to go to, she'd always leave some of her food out for the squirrels and birds. I don't think she understood that it wasn't really healthy for them."

"That's so cute," I said. "Sounds like she had a good heart."

"She did." A chuckle escaped him, slight and hesitant yet there all the same. "She used to call me her big bro."

"Aw," I cooed lightly. "She must've really looked up to you. Did Farlan ever get offended?"

"At first, yeah," he said. "It was just he and I for a while before we met her, and I think it pissed him off that she didn't pick him to be her big brother."

"Maybe she had a crush on him, who knows? It'd be awkward to call the boy you have a crush on your brother."

"Maybe," he echoed. "I don't know. We uh... found this bird once."

"Mm-hm," I prompted.

"Its wing was broken. Isabel insisted that we take care of it. She and Farlan took care of it for weeks, tending to its wing until it was healed. And one day... it was able to fly away."

"You saved a bird's life," I said. "How noble."

"Farlan and I saw this old lady sitting on a park bench," he said, continuing right into a different story. He was lost in his thoughts now, and I had a feeling that he hadn't even heard my words. But perhaps that was for the best; he was opening up, he was speaking on things he had never told anyone else. "Not long after we met each other. And he just sat down next to her, and they talked."

"What'd they talk about?"

"I don't know. But she was smiling the whole time."

"Wow," I said gently. "Sounds like he had a heart of gold, too. Keeping an old lady company like that, it's so sweet."

"She was feeding the pigeons," he said. "She gave him some of the birdseed."

That made me smile. When there was another clap of thunder, rattling the windows and rumbling the building down to its foundations, Levi's eyes snapped to the window once more.

"Look at me," I said gently. I set a hand on his cheek and guided him to face me. He allowed me to do that, and when his eyes once more focused on my own I could see that they were glassy. "They sounded like incredible people. I'm so sorry they were taken away so soon. All you can do now is live on, right? And maybe one day you'll see them again."

"You mean when I die?"

"I don't know what happens after death," I said. "No one really does. We'll only find out when we get there, right?"

He was quiet for a moment. When next he spoke, it was only after he lowered his forehead to rest against my shoulder. I wound my arms around him, rubbing his back gently with one hand. "Thank you," he said quietly. "It's been a while since... since I thought of those memories."

"Tell me all the stories you want," I told him. "I love listening to them."

I couldn't help but smile when he yawned. "Let's go back to sleep," I said. "And in the morning... how does another calm day at home sound?"

He chuckled. "Fine by me." He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Thanks, again. For this."

"Anytime," I said. "And if you can't fall asleep... I'm still here for you. I'll always be here for you, my love."

If only I knew... that he had heard those words, or at least something like it, a few times before.

And if only I knew... that those words were an omen of death.