Paper Airplanes (Ereri - SNK)

Irresolute.

I am trash because I promised to have this up quickly and I did not keep that promise. I'm sorry guys. Dx

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It took almost a month, but Levi convinced me to go back to therapy. I can barely remember what he said to talk me into it, but one minute we were mildly arguing and the next, I was standing in front of Thomas's office door.

"I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see you again," the wrinkled man said with a disturbingly elated smile.

The session went as normal, aside from my showing him any new drawings. There weren't any; since Levi reappeared, I haven't so much as thought about my sketchbook. Thomas brushed it off, though, coming to his own conclusion that since I'd stopped showing up for over a month, I'd just lost interest in the 'art', too. And what could I do but let him believe it? It wasn't entirely too far from the truth, anyway...

"There's something different about you, Eren," the old man says to me several sessions after my return, a few weeks later. It's the second time I've let Levi stay in the room with me; he stands quietly near the door with his arms crossed. It takes a great deal of focus not to glance up at him every once in a while, and there isn't even a clock on the wall I can make an excuse of taking a peek at.

"What do you mean?" I ask blandly.

"You just seem...livelier, somehow. A bit happier. That's good." His eyes crinkle as he smiles. Crow's feet. I offer nothing more than a shrug. "Is there a particular reason why?"

I cross my arms and look down at the mahogany surface of his desk. I can't lie and say his talks help, or that the disgusting tea mixture is doing the trick because he'll see right through me. I can only settle for a simple word. "No."

"Have you started drawing again?" he asks.

"...No."

"Can I ask why?"

I grit my teeth to keep from rolling my eyes. "Because I don't want to anymore." And that isn't entirely true, either. Drawing was actually a nice way to kill my already meaningless time before I found Levi on the wall. But with him around again, I want to do nothing but spend that time with him instead.

"Oh? Why not? I thought you enjoyed it."

"I did, I just...I ran out of things to draw."

"Lack of inspiration, huh?" Thomas sits back, nodding and rubbing his palms together. "That's okay. It happens to all of us. I'd like to ask you to try again, though. Maybe you can come up with a reason you've been doing better so we can strengthen it and keep up with it."

Levi's already pretty damn strong, I think.

"Sure."

Another wrinkled smile, a few more questions, and he dismisses me. Levi quietly follows me from the office and only when we're out of the building do I search for his hand. As soon as they're clasped together, he lifts mine and presses my knuckles to his warm lips; I send him a small smile.

Smiling has been easier lately. It still feels awkward at times, still feels forced, and I can only ever send them Levi's way. It just proves wrong the theory I had awhile back - if Levi were back in my life, everything would be fine again; I could smile and laugh and speak to people normally, could function normally. But I suppose that theory was proven wrong, because my head is still sick, still delusional and on the verge of insanity and overflowing with painful memories on one side, numb on the other. But this is better than things have been in years.

"I'm proud of you," he tells me once we're far enough away from the buildings for anyone to be within earshot.

"For what?"