December 21st

A snowflake lands on his nose, melts on the tip and drips off his face along with tears. Levi waits. His hands are stiff and rigid. He presses them deeper into the shallow warmth of his winter uniform, tries to sneak away from the cold of winter howling around his body. The carriage is late, but they bring Erwin, and that’s all that counts. It’s not Christmas yet. But Levi doesn’t celebrate some religious shit. Instead, he suddenly looks up when the snow scrunches, and then he’s running, feet making dull noises on the white inner yard of the Survey Corps’ training grounds.
Erwin gets out with slow, unbroken elegance. His right sleeve flutters in the harsh howls of the wind, empty and thinned out. He’s hollow, body drained of all energy, but Levi flies into his arms and wraps himself around Erwin. “You,” he says, breathes into his collarbone, has to stand on his tiptoes to kiss his chin. Erwin’s arm holds him, strong as always.
“Welcome home,” Levi says.
“I missed you,” Erwin returns solemnly, as if he’s giving an oath to never leave again.