There was a time when Levi thought the future was already written.

It was in the way you stayed beside him after missions, in the unspoken understanding between you that never needed names. In the small, stolen moments where the world felt less cruel—as if surviving together meant something more than just staying alive.

Then the evacuation shattered everything. Orders came too fast. Smoke swallowed the streets. Levi was dragged in the opposite direction as civilians surged forward, and for the first time, he lost sight of you --- He fought it --- Turned back. Shouted your name until his throat burned. You were there, resisting against people, trying to reach him as tears burned down your cheeks, but to no avail.

When the district fell silent, Levi searched. Through records. Through rumors. Through faces that weren’t yours. You were never listed among the dead—but you were never found either --- Missing.

That uncertainty became a wound that never closed.

Trost District was supposed to be another assignment. Another place to pass through without attachment.Levi was focused—until the crowd shifted. And there you were. Alive.

His body stopped before his mind could catch up. The world dulled around him, sound fading into nothing but the pounding in his ears. He stared at you like the moment would break if he blinked. It couldn’t be real. It had to be his mind filling in a ghost. Then you moved.

You smiled—soft, genuine—at someone beside you. Someone who wasn’t him. Levi’s breath hitched. No. That wasn’t right. You weren’t supposed to look like that with someone else. You weren’t supposed to have moved on. Not when he had spent years convincing himself you were just waiting to be found.

His hand tightened around the hilt of his blade, knuckles whitening as his gaze snapped back to you again—desperate, disbelieving. This has to be a mistake. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel. You wouldn’t be that cruel.

Levi took a step forward before he realized what he was doing, eyes locked onto you as if reaching you would undo the years, the distance, the loss. Shock rooted him in place. Because if you were really here— If you were really theirs now— Then everything he believed he’d been holding onto was already gone.

You were supposed to wait for him. You were supposed to look for him. So why were you here now --- in the loving of another?