Expendable Hearts: Masterlist

♡ Expendable Hearts: Masterlist ♡

title: expendable hearts pairing: levi ackerman x ex! afab reader genre: angst, fluff, romantic comedy (i'll try my best), exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, inspired by our beloved summer (kdrama), alternative universe - modern setting, college setting as flashbacks, mutual pining, mc is dumb, levi is dumb, they're both dumb warnings: eventual smut. probably won't use "y/n" very much. specifics and other warnings will be added each part.

Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do.

CHAPTERS

1: windex and baking soda (7.1k words) 2: wedding invitations (8.6k words) 3: ten things i hate about you (coming soon)

AO3 LINK

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© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

Hiii lovelyyy, it's been awhile!! I'm still waiting for the chapter 4 of expendable hearts hehehe. We miss it so muchhh

Hii! I’m sorry I just noticed this ask 😭 I’ll be updating Expandable Hearts tomorrow! I’m really sorry for the wait ☹️ I know I said July aksjsksj I promise I haven’t forgotten about this fic.

had my very rare, only happens once in every 1 or 2 years, little writing rush today so chapter 5 is done y'all. i might update in a few hours or tomorrow.

press four for more options. | part four.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part three. / return to part one. | masterlist

Night comes around.

You do not call.

In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.

As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.

Don't call.

Just don't call.

It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.

Going out is an option.

Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.

Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.

It was him.

Right there.

Right in front of you.

Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.

No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise. 

He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—

Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.

Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.

(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)

So you make a final decision:

You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.

(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)

Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too. 

Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.

Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.

He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.

The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.

Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.

He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.

They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.

Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.

Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.

Would he know?

That you’re Scarlet.

His, in some made-up world.

(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)

The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.

Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.

(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)

As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.

He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.

This is torture.

You miss him.

But you still refuse to call.

Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.

.

.

— —

.

.

    Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.

Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.

The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.

If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.

You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.

Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath. 

A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.

(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)

In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.

“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.

(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)

You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.

Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.

“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”

“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”

You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.

“And Connie?”

“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”

“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”

Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”

“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”

“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.

You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days. 

Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.

Damn it.

Enough wallowing.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”

From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.

Armin and Jean.

Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“Nope, I’m solid.”

“Good here.”

“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”

“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”

You don’t stick around for that aftermath.

Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.

You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.

Success.

You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface. 

Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.

Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself. 

It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.

An hour.

All you need to do is last one whole hour.

Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—

“Is this seat taken?”

A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.

The seat.

The one next to you, where your purse lay.

Way to go, dumbass.

You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.

“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”

As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.

“Hold on, let me just move—”

Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.

Wait.

Levi?!

His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.

The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.

The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.

Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.

“...my stuff.”

Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now. 

Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out. 

Maybe your drink will be poisoned. 

You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.

Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.

Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.

Silence.

For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.

Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own. 

It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.

You need to get up.

Excuse yourself out. 

Leave.

You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.

“How’s your phone?”

Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t. 

The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.

“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.

“Good.”

Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.

Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.

His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.

You have to apologize.

This is crossing a line.

You need to—

“So—”

“I’m canceling my subscription.”

You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.

When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.

From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.

“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.

“I— how come?”

You repeat his question in surprise.

Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.

“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”

He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.

“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

“I’m actually here with friends—”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling. 

“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”

Why isn’t he freaking out?

Shouldn’t he be freaking out?

Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.

“What can I get you?”

You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks. 

“I—”

“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”

Then he has the audacity to glance your way.

“Pineapple, right?”

Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?

Is this a flex?

(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)

“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.

The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.

For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.

He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.

You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.

This is real life.

The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.

If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.

Why didn’t you say something?

“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.” 

When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.

“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”

His brows pinch with amusement. 

“On Mars, or…?”

Oh.

He’s joking.

He’s actually joking about this.

You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.

“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”

No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.

“So you’re not…”

“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”

Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.

Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.

“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”

You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.

He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.

“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.

“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.” 

Levi shrugs, sipping his drink. 

“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”

“I just…”

You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.

“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.” 

Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.

“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”

Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.

“Not like that!”

“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”

He’s not angry.

Hell, he’s conversational.

Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.

Might as well be honest.

“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”

The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.

The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.

“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”

At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.

“You don’t… want me to leave?”

Levi shakes his head.

You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.

Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.

It feels intimate.

Too intimate.

“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”

“Right.”

“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”

You blink, not following. “Huh?”

“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”

Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.

“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

Levi… was sorry?

The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.

“I… just said I crossed the line?”

“When?”

“On the phone?”

“Okay, duh, but when?”

“Our last session.”

“So that was real.”

Levi actually got off to your voice.

If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.

He considers his next words very carefully. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Then he sips more before shaking his head.

“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”

You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”

He makes a noncommittal face.

“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”

“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.

“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."

Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.

“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."

He takes a pause.

"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”

You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.

"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."

Ten minutes.

That length of time strikes something in you.

“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder. 

“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”

Ten minutes away, is your implication.

His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.

His eyes narrow. 

“The complex on Junction Ave?”

“Yeah," you say.

“Right across from—”

“The Reiss deli.”

That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”

“You say the word shit a lot.”

“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.

“Wait, what?”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)

He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”

“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”

Holy shit.

Oh, holy shit.

You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”

“Sixteenth.”

“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”

Have been right above me this entire time.

Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought. 

Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?

Right.

You’re here with friends.

“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

You swipe the screen north and type a reply.

[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.

Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.

[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????

[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!

[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted

[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar

“Looks urgent.”

“Huh?” 

You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top. 

“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.

Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave. 

“I don’t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”

Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself. 

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”

He nods once, setting his drink down. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”

Levi trails off, sighing heavily.

“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”

Something nestles itself between the lines of his words. 

Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.

“Do you really mean that, Levi?”

That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies. 

“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.

“So Levi’s your real name?”

He nods.

“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."

Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.

"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”

Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?

Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?

Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one: 

“Are you single?”

That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.

(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)

“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”

“Very,” you promise back.

“And my job doesn’t bother you?”

You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.

He isn't asking to marry you.

Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.

“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”

Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over. 

You smile in return, sipping your drink.

It's the truth.

He may not really know you, but he knows you.

Just as you're beginning to think you know him.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.

Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.

Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”

Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top. 

His skin is smooth. 

Heated. 

Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.

One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.

“—give me a call.”

Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.

You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.

A call.

Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.

Not the Scout Services Hotline.

No — his number.

Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.

Annie knows.

She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.

On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.

Zero through nine appear.

Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.

One ring.

Two.

By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

Levi Ackerman.

Knowing his full name warms your heart.

Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.

Searching for you.

You smile to yourself.

"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."

Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.

Be selfish.

"Are you free for some tea now?”

.

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.

In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)

The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

[5] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 5: Paradis City

WC: 7117 Chapter Warnings: no warnings for this chapter. unedited, as always. Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. Note: Unfortunately, there's not much Levi in this chapter so I updated this fast so you don't have to wait a long time just for Levi not to come up lol. This chapter holds more of reader's life now and subtle clues on why she left.

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The campus was quiet, save for the occasional murmur of passing students and the rustle of leaves as a soft breeze swept through the courtyard. You and Levi were sitting on a low stone wall near one of the older buildings, the sun setting just beyond the skyline, casting long shadows over the worn paths crisscrossing the quad. The end of the semester of your second year was approaching, and with it, the inevitable questions about the future.

Levi, sitting next to you with his usual calm demeanor, was more quiet than usual, like he had something on his mind. After a few moments, he finally broke the silence, his voice steady but carrying a weight behind it.

“You ever think about leaving the city?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the horizon, watching as the last streaks of daylight began to fade.

The question caught you off guard. You glanced at him, seeing the faintest crease in his brow, like he was trying to keep the question casual but couldn’t quite manage it. You shifted on the wall, pulling your knees up to your chest, and thought about it for a moment.

“After we graduate?” you asked, already knowing that’s what he meant.

Levi gave a slight nod, still looking out at the skyline. “Yeah. You ever think about what’s next? Where you’d go?”

You looked down at your hands, fiddling with the fraying edge of your sleeve, thinking about the question. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it—what comes after graduation, where you’d go, what you’d do. You know what you want to happen. But leaving the city? That hadn’t crossed your mind, not really. You and your grandmother had lived all your lives in Paradis. Her house is comfortable and the thought of leaving your grandmother at her old age is terrifying. Taking her with you is also out of the question because of that. Besides, your grandmother owned that house for decades. It’s the only thing she has to her name. 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice quiet but thoughtful. “I guess a lot of people are thinking about moving away, starting fresh somewhere else. But… I’ve never really wanted that.”

Levi glanced at you, waiting for you to continue. You took a deep breath, trying to articulate what had always felt so clear to you but difficult to put into words.

“I’ve always liked it here,” you began, your eyes wandering over the campus—the familiar buildings, the cracked pathways, the way everything felt worn in, like it had its own stories to tell. “It’s not perfect. It’s far from it, actually.”

Levi’s gaze stayed steady on you, his expression unreadable but curious. You looked back at him, feeling the need to explain.

“This city…” you paused, gesturing vaguely around you, “it’s a mess. We know it’s also shitty, you know? It’s pretending to be perfect while the other side is The Underground. I know there’s kind of a stigma about them. And to be honest, living near The Underground scares me. But it’s not all black and white.”

You looked down at the worn stone beneath your feet, tracing the uneven texture with your eyes. “Not that I’m romanticizing it but I’ve grown comfortable with this city. I don’t really want to leave my home.”

It’s also where the people that matter to you are.

Levi was quiet, his expression softening in that subtle way he had when he was really thinking. You continued, feeling the words come more easily now.

“Everyone’s in such a rush to leave, to go somewhere new, somewhere shiny and perfect. It would be nice, yes, but Paradis is my home. Even if I one day leave, I know I’ll always come back.”

You paused, feeling a little self-conscious now that you’d said all of that out loud. But Levi didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was looking at you with a kind of quiet understanding.

Levi nodded slightly, his eyes drifting back to the horizon, where the sun had finally dipped below the skyline, leaving the campus bathed in a soft twilight.

“I get that,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, the weight of the conversation lingering between you but not in a bad way. It felt like something had settled, like an unspoken understanding had passed between you both.

Levi didn’t press further, didn’t ask if you wanted to leave or what your exact plans were. He didn’t need to. You both knew that the city—the imperfect, messy city—was more than just a backdrop to your lives. It was part of who you were. And even though Levi didn’t say much, you had a feeling he understood that better than most.

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples to fend off the headache that had been building all afternoon. It had been a particularly difficult week—multiple depositions, court hearings, and client meetings, all bleeding into one another. But that was the life you had chosen. You thrived on the chaos, on the adrenaline of standing before a judge and making your case, on the satisfaction of winning for your clients.

Your phone buzzed on the desk, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was a notification from your calendar, reminding you of a meeting you had tomorrow with a potential new client. You sighed, glancing at the clock. There was always something more to do. But this work has always been like this. In these times, you even crave it, wanting to distract your mind off of a raven-haired man. 

You glanced over at the window, where the skyline of the city stretched out before you, the tall buildings glinting in the setting sun. Paradis City. It’s a place you used to call home. Now, you feel like an outsider trying to fit yourself in. 

As you returned your attention to the case file in front of you, your mind drifted for a moment to the version of yourself who had once walked these same streets as a student, full of ambition and dreams, before you had any idea what the reality of this life would look like. 

A sharp knock on your office door jolted you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Pixis, your boss, standing in the doorway with his usual relaxed demeanor, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“Still buried in paperwork, I see,” he said with a chuckle, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation. He was dressed in his usual dark suit and you even swear he had the faint smell of whiskey on him—though that was nothing new for Pixis. It was something that concerned you for a while but for the past two months you’ve known him, you realize easily that it doesn’t take away that he’s a great lawyer and person. 

You straightened up in your chair, giving him a polite smile. “Just wrapping up a few things before calling it a night.”

Pixis raised an eyebrow, glancing at the pile of papers on your desk. “You always say that, but I’m beginning to think you never leave this place.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” Pixis said, settling into the chair across from you. “I’m calling for a ceasefire on work tonight.”

You blinked, surprised. “A ceasefire?”

Pixis grinned, leaning back in the chair as if he had all the time in the world. “You heard me. We’re going out. The team’s having dinner tonight, and I won’t take no for an answer. I’ve already told the others. You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t gone to a single get-together. Didn’t they teach you in Trost to socialize?” 

You felt a pang of hesitation. Going out with the team was something you didn’t do often—not because you didn’t enjoy their company, but because your mind was always so focused on getting home and isolating yourself. Socializing wasn’t something that came easily to you these days.

“I appreciate the offer, but—” you started, but Pixis cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“No buts. You’ve been working too hard, and I can’t have Vanessa’s best burning out on me or she’ll have my poor old head,” he said with a grin. “Besides, it’ll be good for morale. And I don’t care how dedicated you are to your work—you’ve got to eat.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that. Pixis was always one to look out for his team, even if his methods were unconventional. And, truth be told, you hadn’t had a proper meal all day. The idea of sitting down to a nice dinner, surrounded by familiar faces, wasn’t entirely unappealing. And God, do you miss Vanessa and the others.

“Where’s everyone meeting?” you asked, finally giving in.

“We’re setting it up at some new place in Stohess,” Pixis replied, standing up from the chair with a satisfied look. “Good food, good drinks. Nothing too fancy. It’ll be sent on the group chat later.” 

You nodded, appreciating his words more than you expected. Pixis, as Vanessa told you, had always been more of a mentor than just a boss, and moments like this reminded you why he commanded so much respect around the firm. 

“I’ll be there,” you said, feeling a little lighter now that the decision was made.

Pixis gave you a final nod and a wink. “That’s the spirit. See you tonight, then.”

As the door closed behind him, you glanced at the clock. You had a little over an hour before the dinner, which gave you just enough time to finish the last few bits of work and maybe freshen up before heading out.

The idea of stepping away from the office, even for one night, suddenly didn’t seem so bad. You leaned back in your chair, closing your laptop with a sense of finality. At least now, you’ll be able to see Paradis in all its glory and see what Levi has been saying about its change. 

The cool evening air brushed against your skin as you stepped out of your coworker’s car into Stohess Street, you couldn’t believe your eyes. This was the very same street where you used to spend your time after class, this was where Kuchel’s was located.

It was night time, and the street is filled with bright lights. What used to be a quiet, nearly forgotten corner of the city had transformed into a lively district, filled with bustling restaurants, trendy cafes, and stylish boutiques. The hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, mingling with the scents of grilled meats and fresh-baked bread wafting from nearby eateries. 

You paused for a moment, taking it all in. Stohess had been one of those streets you’d walk down during your university days, back when the sidewalks were cracked, and most of the storefronts were either closed or run down. It had been quiet back then—dull, even. Now, it was anything but. Strings of lights hung across the street, casting a soft glow on the crowds below, and every corner seemed to offer a new place to explore.

You spotted your other coworkers gathered inside one of the newer restaurants at the end of the block, already deep in conversation. You felt a brief flicker of nerves as you approached. It had been a while since you joined the team for anything social, and though you were close with your coworkers, you still found yourself feeling like an outsider in moments like this. You had always preferred the quiet of your office, the comfort of routine, but tonight, something about the vibrant energy of Stohess felt inviting.

You wonder if Kuchel’s is still standing? If it survived the enhancement of the street? Before, it was the only restaurant here. Despite that, she had quite a number of regulars. 

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Pixis called out when he saw you, his grin wide as ever. “We were about to send a search party.”

You smiled, feeling the tension ease as you and the others joined the group. “Had to finish up some work,” you said, slipping into the circle. 

“Finally, we’ve been wanting to hangout with Pixis’ new hire,” someone from the group chimed in. You gave them a smile.

“Thank you for inviting me here,” I replied as we sat down. 

Everyone introduced themselves and their department. When the conversation began to drift away from you, you take the time to admire the establishment while eating.

The restaurant had an open, welcoming feel—high ceilings, rustic wooden tables, and an open kitchen where you could see the chefs at work. It was a far cry from the quiet, almost forgotten street it used to be. As you settled in, you couldn’t help but glance out the window at the street beyond, watching as people hurried by, heading in and out of the various shops and restaurants. It was hard to believe this was the same Stohess, the same place where you, Levi, Erwin, and Hange used to hangout in. It’s where Kuchel fed you meals that filled your stomach with love and motherly care. 

The food came out in waves—plates of grilled meats, fresh salads, and dishes you didn’t even recognize but were eager to try. The noise of the restaurant faded into the background as you ate and talked, losing yourself in the warmth of the moment.

As the dinner continued, the lively hum of conversation filled the air, along with the clatter of silverware and the occasional burst of laughter from your team. You were halfway through a plate of roasted vegetables when the door of the restaurant rang open. A tall man in a neatly pressed suit stepped inside, his expression calm and composed despite the boisterous atmosphere.

Pieck, one of the paralegals that’s seated across from you, looked up and cheered. “Nanami!”

The tall blonde man—Nanami Kento, you presumed—acknowledged her with a polite nod in return before his gaze shifted toward the rest of the table. His eyes briefly met yours before he approached Pixis, shaking his hand with the same understated professionalism that marked his entire demeanor. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Nanami said, his voice low and steady. “Got caught up with a client.”

“No worries, Nanami,” Pixis replied, patting him on the back as he gestured to an empty chair beside you. “We saved you a spot. Have a seat.”

Nanami moved with quiet efficiency, his presence almost subdued compared to the lively energy of your coworkers. He took the seat next to you with a nod in your direction, and you noticed how his movements were deliberate, precise—like someone who didn’t waste time or energy on unnecessary actions. There was something about him that reminded you of Levi, though with a bit more restraint and formality.

“You must be from the corporate law department,” you ventured, breaking the ice as he adjusted his tie.

He turned to you, his expression as composed as ever. “That’s correct. And you’re the new one from the family department, I assume?”

He turned to you, his expression as composed as ever. “That’s correct. And you’re from litigation, I assume?”

You nodded. “Yes, I’m working on the class-action lawsuit involving the stock manipulation case.”

Nanami’s brow lifted ever so slightly in recognition. “Ah, I’ve heard about that one. High stakes. I imagine it’s been keeping you busy.”

You chuckled softly, swirling the wine in your glass. “Busy might be an understatement.”

He gave a small nod of understanding. “Corporate’s been hectic as well. Mergers, acquisitions—there’s always something.”

The conversation between the two of you flowed naturally, despite Nanami’s reserved demeanor. You found that, while he wasn’t particularly talkative, he had a quiet intellect and a sharp wit that revealed itself in subtle ways. There was a calmness to him that was almost soothing amidst the more boisterous energy of the team dinner. You can already tell that you’ll be getting along well. 

The conversation around the table continued, light and full of anecdotes about the latest cases, legal dramas, and a few well-timed jokes courtesy of Porco. But you found yourself intrigued by Nanami. Unlike many of the other senior lawyers, he had a quiet presence that demanded respect without saying much.

Eventually, you turned to him again. “Do you make it to these dinners often?”

Nanami shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not really. Usually, I’m tied up with clients. But Pixis can be… persuasive.”

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “I think that’s his talent. He has a way of getting us to take a break, even when we don’t want to.”

Nanami gave a slight chuckle, a rare sound from someone as composed as him. “It’s necessary, I suppose. Especially in this line of work.”

As the night began to settle, the conversation around the table started to thin out, with most of your coworkers drifting into smaller groups. You found yourself once again next to Nanami, who was calmly finishing his drink as the ambient noise of the restaurant hummed in the background. The light above the table cast a warm glow, making the lively street outside feel distant for a moment.

You tilted your head slightly, curious. “How long have you been in Paradis, Nanami?” 

“I’ve been here for four years,” he replied simply. “I moved here for the job.” 

“Do you like it here? The city? What do you think of it?”

Nanami glanced at you, his expression thoughtful as he set down his glass. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he was going to answer, but then he let out a quiet sigh, more out of reflection than fatigue.

“It’s… complicated,” he said, his eyes drifting to the window, watching the flickering lights of Stohess Street and the stream of people passing by. “When I first moved here, I thought it was overwhelming. The noise, the people, the constant movement. It felt… impersonal, in a way.”

You sigh, nodding in an understanding manner. “It didn’t used to be like this, you know?” 

That intrigued Nanami and he raised a brow. “Oh? You were from here?”

“Lived here all my life until I moved out seven years ago,” you admitted, leaning forward slightly. “It’s crazy how the city’s changed. I remember when this street was basically dead. Now it’s the place to be.”

Pixis, having heard of the conversation, chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “That’s the city for you. Always changing, whether you like it or not.”

“I didn’t know the city can change so much in seven years.” The tiny amount of alcohol must be getting to you, making you pout a little, something a bit out of character.

His words, simple as they were, hit you in a way that made you pause. The city had changed, yes, just as Levi said. And in many ways, the chaos of your life mirrored the transformation of Stohess—a once quiet, predictable space, now filled with complexity and vibrancy. But why was this information being fed to you lately? What is it to you that the city is no longer it used to be? This city that pushed you away? 

“I used to work on this same street. On the only known restaurant here before,” I shared, feeling nostalgic and missing that time of my life again.

“Hold up,” Porco raised a hand with wide eyes. “You’re telling me you worked at Kuchel’s before?” 

“Yeah, I worked part-time there during my college years,” I replied, confused as to why it’s a big deal. 

“Wow, that’s kinda iconic,” Gabi, one of the interns, reacts.

You don’t hide your confusion, chuckling a little with furrowed brows. “What exactly am I missing here?”

Pieck, who had been mid-sip of her drink, nearly choked in surprise. “Kuchel’s? The same place that practically owns the entire block now?”

“So you probably know the Ackermans?” Pixis asked, his cheeks reddened and eyes fazed from the excessive drinking. It doesn’t look like he’s out of it though.

You blinked, even more confused now. “The whole block? What do you mean? And what of the Ackermans?”

Pixis nodded, equally astonished. “Yeah, Kuchel’s isn’t some small restaurant anymore. They’ve taken over Stohess Street. You’ve been away from the city, right? I guess you haven’t seen it but the Ackermans practically revamped the whole street, if not the whole city.” 

You stared at him, genuinely taken aback. “No, I didn’t realize. I’ve been away for the past seven years. I didn’t know it had grown that much.”

It was just a small, cozy place. Kuchel ran it herself and had no intentions of making it as they were describing the business now. It had to be Levi. That would explain all the wealth he had. But it didn’t occur to you that he would be able to accomplish much in the past seven years. Not that you think he’s incapable of it. It’s just… surprising. It even makes you feel a little proud—a feeling that you quickly buried. You don’t really have a reason to feel that way. 

Porco chuckled. “Well, times have definitely changed. Kuchel’s is the restaurant now. They’ve expanded, got two more locations across the city, and they’re practically a landmark here on Stohess Street. People come in from different cities to taste their food.” 

“Tell me about it. I interned once from a company and they had me reserve a table. The waiting is for at least four months! It’s ridiculous,” Falco shared. 

You couldn’t hide your surprise. In your mind, Kuchel’s was still that quiet, modest restaurant where you spent long nights waiting tables between exams. You remembered Kuchel herself—humble and hardworking, always talking about keeping the restaurant personal and authentic. The idea of her running an empire now felt surreal.

“I had no idea,” you said softly, glancing out the window at the bustling street. It now occured to you that this is what Levi meant when he said this city has changed more than you know. 

Nanami, who had been silently listening from his seat next to you, finally spoke up, his calm voice cutting through your thoughts. “Seven years is a long time to be away. The city can change fast, especially a place like this.”

You nodded slowly, still processing the idea. “Yeah… I guess I wasn’t expecting it to change so much. I knew some things would be different, but Kuchel’s… it was like a second home back then. It’s strange to think of it as something so big now.”

Pieck gave you a sympathetic smile. “I bet it feels weird, coming back to a place that’s so different from what you remember.”

Pixis leaned forward, grinning. “Well, you should check it out. Who knows, maybe Kuchel remembers you. You might get the VIP treatment.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I doubt it. I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

That and if Levi hates you now, she probably does too. You fear that even if it wasn’t you that reserved a table, she might even kick you the moment you stepped out of the restaurant. Even though you know that Kuchel wouldn’t have it in her heart to do that, your shame and anxiety gets the better of your thoughts as always.

“I actually have a reserved dinner table for the next weekend there given to me by a client after I won a case for them,” Nanami said suddenly, and you silently thank him in your mind for changing the topic. “Corporate people are wealthy people with connections,” he says with a face that doesn’t look arrogant but more of exhaustion. Although he carries himself with poise and professionalism, Nanami genuinely looks like he’s in dire need of a vacation. It seems like you found yourself another workaholic like you. 

“No way! Are you going with someone?” Pieck asked, eyes wide with excitement.

Nanami thinks for a moment, tilting his head. “Well… the table is for two. But I plan on going alone.”

“You should definitely bring someone,” Pixis chimed in. “Go get yourself a date and relax, Nanami. Life shouldn’t be all about work at your age.” 

The blonde stayed silent in deep thought but he did smile politely for Pixis. “Or if you don’t want to, why don’t you bring our new girl over here? You workaholics both need a breather.” 

And just like that, it’s once again your turn to be put on the spot. Everyone at the table looks at you and Nanami in excitement. With widened eyes, you immediately refuse. “Oh, please, you don’t have to do that, Nanami. Pixis…” You almost plea with your boss using your eyes to take back his words. 

Pixis opens his mouth again but Nanami interrupts him, shocking you. “That’s actually a good idea. Would you want to come with me?”

“I couldn’t possibly impose.” You start thinking about how to get out of this while wondering why Nanami actually agreed. You hoped he didn’t. 

“Oh, yes, you could. Maybe you could even see one of the Ackermans and get your own reservation! Maybe get the team a table?” 

The atmosphere at the table grew lighter, but you couldn’t ignore the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. Nanami had just thrown you into an unexpected spotlight, and you found yourself struggling to figure out how to respond. You blinked, your mind racing for a way to politely decline without making the situation awkward.

Nanami, sitting calmly beside you, didn’t seem fazed by the suggestion. His composed demeanor didn’t reveal whether he was truly interested in the idea or just going along with Pixis’ suggestion out of politeness. Still, there was a gentleness in his expression—no pressure, just a simple offer hanging in the air between you.

“I don’t think I could manage a reservation with the Ackermans,” you said, trying to shift the focus away from yourself and back to the others. “Besides, Nanami’s the one with the connections here, not me.”

Porco grinned, raising his glass. “Come on, don’t be shy. It’s not every day you get an invite to dinner at Kuchel’s.”

“You two would be the envy of everyone,” Pieck added with a playful wink. “I mean, imagine us mere mortals trying to get in there without waiting months.”

Pixis laughed. “You should definitely take the chance. Plus, it’ll give you both a break from work.”

You let out a small laugh, hoping to diffuse the attention. “It sounds tempting, but I’m sure Nanami has someone else in mind he’d rather take. I mean, who goes to dinner with their coworker when they can invite anyone?”

Nanami, who had been quiet during the back-and-forth, turned to you with a soft smile, his voice low and considerate. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. But there’s no pressure, of course. It’s just dinner.”

There was something so simple and straightforward in the way he said it that your initial hesitation began to wane. The offer wasn’t loaded with expectation; it was just an opportunity to share a meal in a place that held memories for you, and perhaps, as Pixis had suggested, to relax. You glanced back at Nanami, noticing the subtle tiredness beneath his composed exterior. In that moment, you realized you were both in need of a break—from work, from the pressures of the city, from everything.

“Alright,” you said slowly, almost surprising yourself as the words left your mouth. “I’ll go.”

The table erupted into cheers and light applause, with Pieck and Porco exchanging triumphant high-fives while Pixis gave you an approving nod. Nanami simply nodded, as calm and composed as ever, though there was a flicker of something warmer in his eyes.

“Great,” he said, his tone measured but sincere. “I’ll text you the time this weekend.”

Pieck leaned in, her voice teasing. “Well, now we’re all jealous. You two better enjoy it.”

As the conversation moved on to other topics, you sat back in your chair, still processing what had just happened. You hadn’t expected the evening to take this turn, nor had you thought about spending time with Nanami outside of work. He was a bit of an enigma—calm, collected, and quietly competent—but beneath that exterior, you sensed there was more to him. Maybe this dinner would reveal a side of him you hadn’t yet seen.

Either way, you found yourself oddly curious about how the evening at Kuchel’s would unfold. Maybe, for the first time in a long while, you’d allow yourself to enjoy the city again. Even if it was just for one night.

The following weekend arrived more quickly than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, you were standing outside Kuchel’s, the restaurant that now dominated Stohess Street. It had been years since you last stepped foot in the area, and the sight before you was almost unrecognizable. 

Nanami stood beside you, looking as composed as always. His suit was tailored perfectly, and despite his usual calm demeanor, there was a subtle shift in him tonight. Maybe it was the change of pace, stepping out of the office, or the significance of the restaurant itself. He caught your glance and offered a small smile, as if sensing your quiet apprehension.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steady but soft.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s strange seeing it like this.”

As you walked into Kuchel’s, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. Though the restaurant had expanded, its essence remained the same. The decor was more refined now, with soft lighting and elegant wooden furniture, but there was still a warmth to it. The scent of fresh herbs and cooking meats wafted through the air, a familiar comfort that made your shoulders relax despite the high-end surroundings.

The hostess greeted Nanami with a nod of recognition, leading you both to a private table near the back. It was quiet, away from the main bustle of the restaurant, giving the two of you some much-needed reprieve from the noise of the city outside.

“Thank you,” Nanami said to the hostess, who left you both with menus. He glanced at you once you were seated. “I hope this isn’t too overwhelming. I didn’t realize you hadn’t been back here in so long.”

You offered him a small smile, feeling more at ease now that you were inside. “It’s a bit surreal, but in a good way. I’m glad I came.” You paused, your eyes scanning the menu, then added, “And I appreciate the invitation.”

Nanami nodded, his gaze flickering across the restaurant before returning to you. “It’s nothing. I thought it would be nice to get out of the usual routine, and… I’ve heard a lot about this place from my clients. Seems like it holds some memories for you.”

You chuckled softly, placing the menu down. “More than I realized, actually. Back then, this was just a small family-owned spot. It’s kind of hard to believe it’s grown into something like this.”

Nanami’s eyes softened. “It must be strange to see it change so much.”

You nodded, leaning back in your chair, watching the patrons around you. “Yeah… I always felt like this place represented something simple. Quiet. Now it’s this buzzing, high-end place, and I’m not sure what to think.”

Nanami remained silent for a moment, giving you space to process. Then, he leaned forward slightly, his expression more thoughtful. “Places change. People do too. But sometimes, it’s not as different as it seems on the surface. There’s always something familiar, something worth remembering.”

You blinked at his words, surprised by the depth in them. He had a way of cutting through to the heart of things without much effort. “I guess you’re right. I didn’t expect to feel this way coming back here.”

You glanced at him, wondering how someone who always seemed so in control, so composed, could also carry a quiet sense of longing and understanding beneath that exterior. Maybe Pixis had been right. You and Nanami were alike in more ways than you had thought—both of you workaholics, both of you wrestling with the weight of your own expectations.

The waiter appeared, breaking the silence as he took your orders. You opted for something simple—something that reminded you of your college days here—while Nanami chose one of the house specialties. After the waiter left, the conversation picked up again, a little lighter this time.

“So,” Nanami said, leaning back in his chair with a rare, relaxed posture. “What was it like working here? I imagine it was a lot different than the law office.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Very different. I mostly waited tables, cleaned up after shifts. It was exhausting but rewarding in its own way. I liked the people I met—the college friends I made here. They really helped me out during those years.”

Nanami nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s admirable. I’m glad you had people who were there for you. Being a working student isn’t an easy task.”

You smiled, appreciating the shared sentiment. “Exactly. I think they were what kept me going–what made the experience memorable.” 

Nanami’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, simply taking in the atmosphere. It felt… peaceful. Different from the rushed, stressful energy of the office. Here, in this familiar but transformed place, there was space to breathe, to reflect.

When the food arrived, the conversation continued, flowing easily between work anecdotes and personal reflections. Nanami, despite his composed exterior, revealed snippets of himself—a man dedicated to his craft but aware of the toll it took on him. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing in his company, grateful for the unexpected invitation and the quiet camaraderie it had brought.

By the time dessert was served, you were no longer thinking about the changes that had happened to Kuchel’s or the city. Instead, you were just enjoying the present moment—something you hadn’t done in a long time. Besides, if the restaurant had grown into what they said it had, you probably won’t see any Ackerman in here. 

As you finished the last bite of your meal, Nanami leaned back, his gaze steady on you. “I think Pixis was right. We both needed this.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, I think so too.”

As you and Nanami lingered over the last sips of your drinks, the warm ambiance of Kuchel’s seemed to envelope you. The clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation filled the air, but your conversation had quieted into a companionable silence. It had been a surprisingly pleasant evening, one that neither of you seemed in a rush to end. Suddenly, the people around you turned more quiet, looking in one direction. 

You looked up sharply, your heart skipping a beat. There, near the entrance, stood Levi Ackerman. His posture was relaxed but firm as he made his way into the place. You dropped your fork in shock, the utensil making a loud sound as it hit the porcelain plate. You curse yourself in your mind.

But before you can even hide yourself somehow, Levi turned, and his eyes fell on you. For a second, his gaze lingered before it shifted to Nanami beside you. A brief flicker of surprise crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual neutral expression. 

He made his way toward your table, his steps quiet and deliberate as always. Unlike since you last saw him, this Levi looked different as you remembered—sharp, composed, with that ever-present air of authority that somehow fit him so well.

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Levi said, his tone even but laced with the barest hint of curiosity. His eyes flicked to Nanami again, sizing him up before returning to you. “Small world.”

Nanami, ever composed, offered a polite nod. “You must be the owner.”

Levi gave a faint nod in return. “Levi Ackerman. This place belonged to my mother.” His attention shifted back to you, and for the briefest moment, something softened in his gaze.

You blinked, still trying to process the fact that Levi was standing right in front of you. Memories from your time together—at university, at Kuchel’s, before everything had changed—rushed back, but you kept your voice steady. “Yeah, it has. I didn’t even know Kuchel’s had grown so much.”

Nanami’s eyes shifted between the two of you, picking up on the subtle history that lingered beneath the surface. “It’s a beautiful place,” he said, his tone respectful but distant, sensing the dynamic. “Thank you for the hospitality.”

Levi nodded once. “I’ll let you finish your meal.” He turned to leave but hesitated for a second, looking at you again.

With that, he walked back toward the kitchen, leaving you and Nanami in a silence that felt heavier than before. You could feel Nanami’s gaze on you, quiet but probing.

“Old friend?” he asked softly, though the question carried a weight of understanding.

You exhaled, glancing down at your empty plate before meeting Nanami’s eyes. “Yeah… something like that.”

Nanami didn’t press further, and you were grateful for his quiet understanding. The rest of the evening passed in a peaceful silence, the weight of nostalgia sitting comfortably between you both, until it was time to leave.

As you and Nanami stood up to leave, the night air of Stohess Street filtered through the open doors of Kuchel's, cool and refreshing against the warmth of the restaurant. You grabbed your coat, glancing at Nanami, who had already slipped into his usual calm composure. The evening had been unexpectedly pleasant, and the subtle connection you’d shared made you feel more at ease.

Just as you step out, you heard the faint chime of the entrance door swinging open. A familiar figure appeared in the doorway—Kuchel Ackerman herself.

She looked exactly as you remembered: graceful, yet with an air of quiet authority. Her hair was loosely tied back, a few silver strands woven through the dark, giving her a look of timeless elegance. 

Kuchel stopped when she saw you, her eyes widening with recognition and surprise. For a moment, she stood there, taking you in, as if trying to place you in the timeline of the restaurant’s long history.

"You," she murmured, her voice soft with disbelief but soon warming with familiarity. "It can't be."

Your heart raced and your nerves are all over the place. It’s one thing to be seen by Levi but another thing to also see the other Ackerman that holds much of your heart. 

Her face broke into a smile walking up to you with the same gentle but firm presence she had when you were younger. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, her voice filled with both surprise and delight. “It’s been… what? Seven years?”

You smiled, taking a step toward her. "Kuchel. It’s been too long." You nodded, feeling the years stretch between you. “Yeah, seven years. I only just came back.”

Kuchel looked you over, her expression warm, though touched with nostalgia. “You haven’t changed much, except… you look more like you belong in one of those big offices now.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I guess a lot has changed. But this place…” You gestured around Kuchel’s. 

She tilted her head, her eyes softening. “I’m glad you feel that way. It’s grown so much, hasn’t it? Levi’s been working hard to expand.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you replied, thinking back to your earlier conversation with Levi. “It’s amazing what you’ve done here.”

Kuchel’s gaze flickered toward Nanami, who stood quietly beside you, ever the composed observer. “And who’s this?”

You introduced him, and Nanami gave a small, respectful nod. Kuchel returned his greeting with a knowing smile, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Another lawyer, huh? You sure know how to pick your friends,” she teased lightly, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

Nanami, ever polite, added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your restaurant is exceptional.”

Kuchel smiled, clearly pleased. “Thank you. That means a lot.” She glanced back at you. “I should have guessed you’d find your way back here eventually. This place has a way of pulling people in.”

You smiled softly. “It really does. I’m glad I came.”

Kuchel reached out, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Don’t be a stranger now that you’re back. This place is always open for you.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that had been missing for a while. “I won’t.”

Her expression is softer now, with a smile that carried the warmth of an old friend. “Actually, Before you go… how about you join me for dinner sometime next week? Just us,” she added with a glance at Nanami, as if sensing this had been more of a business dinner. “I’d love to catch up properly. It’s been too long, and I’m sure there’s plenty to talk about.”

For a moment, you hesitated, feeling the weight of time between the last time you sat down with Kuchel and now. The thought of stepping back into that part of your life, of Levi’s life, even for a night, stirred something inside you—nostalgia, perhaps, or a little trepidation. But Kuchel’s invitation felt genuine, and you knew, deep down, that reconnecting with her might be exactly what you needed.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’d love that, Kuchel.”

Kuchel’s face lit up, and she nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I’ll even be the one to cook something special,” she teased, though you could tell she wasn’t entirely joking. 

Nanami, who had been standing quietly by your side, gave a subtle nod of approval. “It sounds like a perfect opportunity to reconnect.”

You glanced at him, grateful for his understanding, before turning back to Kuchel. “I won’t forget,” you promised.

“Good.” Kuchel smiled once more before retreating back into the restaurant, leaving you standing at the threshold of the bustling street, feeling strangely at peace.

As you and Nanami finally walked away from Kuchel’s, the cool night air wrapping around you, the quiet between you was no longer awkward or heavy. Instead, it felt comfortable—a shared understanding of the complexities of the past and the people who shaped it.

Nanami glanced at you, his tone measured but kind. “You’ve got a lot of history here.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking back at the restaurant, now glowing behind you in the night. “I do.”

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

Hii, when is the next update of expendable hearts??? (I REALLY LOVE IT SO MUCHHH)

HELLOOOO ☺️ Thank you for the interest! I’m still writing chapter 4 but I’ll do my best to update before July ends! I’m so so glad you love it. <333