A/N: This is an idea that I've been playing around with for a while, so I can only hope that it came out alright. Essentially, it is a Eren x Levi fic although I'm not sure if it's Ereri or Riren. We will see how it goes as time goes on. Other pairings may exist or be hinted at in future chapters, but as I've said in the summary, I will give each chapter its relative warnings.

Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan or any of the characters from the anime/manga.

The clear, cool winter night air was as smooth as silk as it enveloped the fuselage of the small four-seat aircraft as she cruised effortlessly through the sky. With no turbulence in the air, the gentle hum of the single engine created a soothing lullaby that would've sang the occupants to sleep had the view below them not been so stunning.

Karanese was a beautiful city from the ground, but that beauty was dwarfed when viewed from above. The majestic and well-lit buildings towering high into the night sky seemed to skim just below the wings of the Cessna as she flew over them. The dark of the night was broken by the vibrant city lights, shining from within the buildings, from around the buildings and even from between them. At only two thousand feet above the ground, the cars were easy to see as they drove through the grid that is the city's roads.

"Wow," Armin breathed, his voice cracking through the headset.

The slight blonde sat with his head against the window in the back left seat of the aircraft, his eyes wide as if he feared he'd miss the scenery if he even drooped his lids a millimeter. Completely mesmerized by the sight, Armin never could have imagined in all his life that the concrete jungle could look so breath-taking. It made him feel guilty for lusting to find beauty elsewhere when he was surrounded by such a unique living entity all his life.

The brunette in the front left seat smiled a cocky smile and looked down on the city. It was a sight he'd seen before, but when he saw it that first – and last – time, it was on a training flight and he had very little time to gawk. But even then he recognized the beauty and vowed to bring his best friend, who appreciated landscapes and scenery more than anybody, on a flight over the Karanese CBD. If he had a girlfriend, he would've definitely brought her with, but since his love-life was the eternal drought, he had brought his adoptive sister along for the scenic ride.

Mikasa sat beside him, eyes fixed on the beauty below her and chin tucked into her favorite red scarf. She had been silent since the engine had started, and if the brunette didn't know any better, he would've thought Mikasa was afraid of flying.

Hell, in an aluminum tube that weighted less than most decent cars, even when it had a full payload and full fuel, anybody could develop an instant fear of flying.

As to not offend himself, Eren simply took her silence for appreciation and never questioned her.

With a sigh, he turned his attention back inside the aircraft. He was at a mandatory reporting point and had to alert the other aircraft in the area of his intentions. Pushing the PTT button, he began to speak in a smooth and professional voice, broadcasting on the radio.

"Traffic in Karanese special rules area, this is X-ray Echo Yankee, Charlie one-seven-two, currently overhead Karanese CBD at seven thousand, five hundred feet. Descending now to six thousand feet to operate overhead for the next one-zero minutes. Any traffic, please advise."

He released the button and turned to Mikasa, whose grey eyes were trained on him. The awe and admiration in her eyes was as clear as the sound of the engine of the aircraft, and Eren was definitely not oblivious to this. He had gotten the same look from her every time he spoke on the radio, and he knew for a fact it was because Mikasa never thought she'd ever hear Eren speak so calmly and professionally. If she closed her eyes she wouldn't recognize the voice as his at all.

But before Eren could say anything to her, the radio came alive in all of their ears.

"X-ray Echo Yankee, be advised Robbie forty-four Lima Alpha Hotel is operating overhead Karanese CBD at six thousand for the next one-five minutes."

Eren's brows knit down fiercely and he cussed softly before pushing his PTT button with much more force than was necessary. "Copy traffic…uh…X-ray Echo Yankee to descend to seven thousand and route back to Karanese Central Airport." He released his PTT and hissed, "Dick."

It was the same man. Eren not only recognized the call-sign by now, but the man's voice had become stuck in Eren's mind. It was the smooth monotone of what could only be a certified douchebag, which had to be true since the man was the pilot of a Robinson forty-four helicopter. Everyone knew that chopper pilots were douchebags by default.

Especially this one. This man seemed to pop up everywhere the young fixed-wing pilot wanted to fly, creeping up in his airspace and forcing Eren to deviate and reroute his flights more often than not. It had started to feel like this man was purposefully trying to sabotage Eren's flights as the teen could not remember a single flight out of his last ten where the call-sigh 'Lima Alpha Hotel' had not forced him to change his own plans.

With an irritated sigh, Eren turned the small aircraft around to head back to the airport from which they came.

"Uh, sorry guys, we're gonna have to head back now since that idiot," Eren glared out of the window, catching a glimpse of the offending aircraft below him at ten o' clock "is taking up the entire freaking city with his ego so we have no space to operate."

Mikasa didn't reply. She simply nodded despite knowing Eren's attention was on flying the aircraft.

"Is that the guy you told me about?" Armin asked through his headset.

"Yours truly," Eren replied. Once the aircraft was tracking back to Karanese, Eren turned to look at Armin, a dangerous glint in his green eyes. "I swear I will find him one day and give him a good piece of my mind."

Armin chuckled, thinking to himself that he would love to be a fly on the wall to witness that confrontation. Eren may not be scared of confrontations and fights, but he wasn't particularly good at them. More often than not, Mikasa either had to come to his aid physically or Armin had to aid Eren by talking the boy out of a tight situation. The blonde wondered how Eren would fare with no backup.

As they flew, Eren's mind wondered to the fateful encounter at his part-time job more than a year ago that had gotten him where he is now: the proud owner of a PPL (private pilot license) and well on his way to getting his commercial license. It was simply a matter of being in the right place at the right time.

It was a quiet day at the small coffee shop, with only two customers occupying separate tables in the cozy establishment. The two waiters on duty, Eren and Sasha, were talking amongst themselves since their respective customers were both eating lunch and would call when they required assistance again.

"So you're going to culinary school?" Eren confirmed.

Sasha smiled widely, her brown eyes alight with excitement at the mere thought of dedicating her life to her one true love: food. It was not surprising to Eren per se, but he honestly had no idea that Sasha's passion for food went any further than simply eating it.

"Yes!" she squealed, clapping her hands. Her shoulders hunched and her eyes became dreamy as she continued. "Just imagine the things I will learn to create! I will be able to make myself a masterpiece for every meal of the day and enjoy gourmet snacks for as long as I live!"

Eren laughed at her and snuck a quick peek at his customer to make sure he wasn't being summoned. The tall blonde had his head down, most likely eating.

"What are you going to do?" Sasha asked. "Have you applied to go to university?"

"Hah," Eren scoffed. "And attend 'school' for another four years? Forget it. When I'm done with school, I'm done forever! I wanna get into flying."

"Like…a pilot?"

"Yes."

"Oh! Marco is doing that. He says its super expensive."

Eren sighed and nodded. He was well aware of the costs involved, and it was definitely not affordable. Even though his father was a doctor, he still wouldn't be able to afford to send both Eren to flight school and Mikasa to university simultaneously. This fact had less to do with his actual salary than it had to do with the questionable hobbies he engaged in.

"I've applied for a cadet program with Wings Aviation," Eren said. "I still haven't heard anything from them though. I don't think my math mark makes the cut…" Just then, his customer raised a hand to grab Eren's attention. "Excuse me, Sasha."

Eren went over to his customer's table, smiling brightly as he asked what assistance the blonde businessman required. The man requested the bill, his bright blue eyes sincere and warm, yet calculating and somewhat secretive. As Eren rang up the man's meal, he found himself hoping that the man would leave a decent tip – the man looked wealthy, sporting a tailored suit and an expensive wristwatch, so he shouldn't be too upset to part with his money. Conversely, rich customers could also be stingy ones. Setting his hopes aside, he returned the bill to the man.

As the man settled his bill, he made small talk with Eren. "Are you interested in becoming a pilot?" He had a kind yet authoritative voice.

"Yes, sir," Eren said with a wide smile. A small blush adorned his tan cheeks as he wondered just how loud he and Sasha must have been talking.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear you talking with your colleague," the man said as if he could read Eren's mind. "What type flying are you interested in doing?"

"Geez, anything really!" Eren's face lit up as countless possibilities swarmed his mind. "I would love to do bush piloting, fire spotting, poacher hunting…all sorts, really. I'll do airline when I'm a bit older and more settled but I really wanna try my hand at everything that has a prop before I hit the jets."

The man smiled a warm smile as he listened intently to Eren. The boy was definitely passionate about flying, it was obvious by the way he spoke about it. He also looked ambitious and eager to get himself out there, qualities the man desperately sought out in the youth, qualities that had become increasingly difficult to find.

"Well," the man said, handing Eren his business card, "I'm one of the cadet recruiters at Wings Aviation and I heard that you've sent an application in. Please send that application directly to my business email and I'll ensure you get a spot in the first round of psychometric evaluations…" His eyes narrowed in one Eren's name badge. "Eren."

Eren stared at the card in his hand, mouth agape. It was a smart yet simple business card with only professional details, including the name Erwin Smith, his title, and contact details.

"You are older than eighteen, right?" the man, Erwin, asked.

Eren blushed. He had a young face and many who didn't know him wouldn't believe he was older than sixteen, despite him being just a few days shy of eighteen. "Yes, sir. I'm turning eighteen next week."

"Fantastic," the man said as he got to his feet. "I can't promise that you will get accepted for the program, Eren, but I will promise you a spot in the assessment. What happens after that is up to the system."

"Yes, sir! No worries, sir! If I get the chance, I definitely won't scr-mess it up! You'll have my application first thing in the morning."

"Good. And good luck, Eren. I hope to see you soon."

They shook hands before the man left, leaving Eren reeling. When Eren grabbed the bill that had been paid cash, and counted the money in the binder, he saw that the man had paid more than double the amount on the bill. With wide eyes Eren grinned as he realized this tip would cover the last bit he needed for the GPS he'd been saving up for.

Eren had gotten his PPL on his nineteenth birthday, a year and a week after his encounter with Erwin Smith. Now, while most of his high school friends were either working full time or studying at university, Eren had the luxurious lifestyle of flying around for hours on end every day. The cadet program paid not only for the training, but also for accommodation, and in addition to that he received pocket money monthly. With all the free time he had between flights, he'd gotten a job as a waiter and barman at a nearby bar, just to keep himself busy.

The theory, however, was not as easy as the flying. Eren had always been more of a hands-on person than he was a mental person. Because of this, he had to pay extra attention in ground school classes, and when he studied, he often had to enlist the help of his friends.

Today, he needed the help on none other the Reiner Braun. Eren had known the tall, stocky blonde from high school but the two weren't exactly close. They spoke now and then, and hung out but their friendship wasn't nearly like what Eren had with Armin. Reiner, however, was busy with a course to become an aircraft mechanic and had agreed to help Eren with the basic workings of an airplane engine. What Eren had learnt in class and what his textbook told him was not nearly sufficient to ensure a pass.

The two boys sat in the living room of the small two-bedroom apartment that Eren shared with one of the other students at his flight school. Since his roommate was gone, the two boys decided to use the warmer living room to work, sitting on the warm rug on the floor. Music played softly in the background as Reiner tried to explain, unsuccessfully, the basics the strokes of a piston.

"This is top-dead-centre," Reiner explained, pointing to one of the diagrams of a piston in Eren's book. "The name is because of the shaft position. See, it's at the top, so it's pretty easy to remember." He pointed to another diagram. "See, with bottom-dead-centre, the shaft is at the bottom. Kapish?"

"Yeah I get that!" Eren grunted as he ran his fingers through his thick, chocolate brown hair. "What I'm struggling with is this…" He pointed at one of the diagrams, his finger circling the area. "…whatever this shit is!"

"Dude, it's so easy," Reiner said. "It's just the phases of the stroke. There are four…"

"I know that…" Eren mumbled under his breath. "I know the names of the four strokes, Reiner. Induction stroke, compression stroke, expulsion stroke…"

"Exhaust stroke," Reiner corrected.

Eren grunted in frustration and threw his hands up in the air. If he was unable to simply memorize the names of the strokes, how could anyone expect him to remember exactly what happened during each one. He'd hoped Reiner would be a little more helpful, but the burly blonde simply sat with his arms folded across his chest, eyes trained on Eren as if Eren was an extra-terrestrial.

"I need to know why the things that happen happen at the times they do," Eren said.

Reiner quirked a brow. Eren's frustration was clearly not getting through to the blonde. "It's simply a matter of common sense."

"Well, clearly I don't have any common sense since none of this makes any sense to me!"

The frustration was quickly becoming anger as Eren's fiery temper and hopelessness began a dangerous tango. But before he could get too involved in the emotional dance, Reiner spoke again.

"Dude, do you have a vagina or something?"

Eren jerked upright and his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he stared at Reiner in utter disbelief, all anger forgotten. "W-wh…WHAT?"

Reiner cocked his head to the side and simply stated, "The workings of an engine is to a man like breathing. Instinctual, natural, it just happens without thinking. Kapish?"

"Uh…" Eren was at a loss for words. Reiner sat nodding to himself as if he were extremely pleased with his metaphor. "In case you forgot, my father is a doctor and I only have a sister, no brothers! How the hell was I supposed to learn 'the workings of an engine'?"

Reiner sighed. "That is a natural discovery boys go through when they grow and become men, Eren. It is a rite of passage into manhood."

"That'd actually be puberty…"

"Puberty is the physical change. A boy is not a man until his mind, body and soul have all matured into a manlike state."

"Unbelievable…" Eren whispered.

The brunette, clearly not going to win against Reiner's warped sense of masculinity, decided to call it a day. Eren thanked Reiner for coming before shooing him away in the most polite manner possible…which, considering Eren's lack of diplomacy, was not polite at all.

Once alone again, Eren threw himself onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling, frustrated. Since high school, he was never one of the smart kids, but he always worked hard. He gave his best and more, studying day in and day out with Armin so that he would do well in his tests and exams. Despite his lacking in subjects such as math and science, Eren worked hard and persisted until his D's became B's, and at the end of it all, he finished high school in the top ten.

Why now, when he had the most pressure on him, could he not simply just absorb the information before him? Was it because he no longer had Armin – ever enthusiastic, mind-bogglingly intelligent and always willing to help – to study with him? He had considered asking Armin to help, but that would be useless because of two major factors:

A) Armin was at university slaving his own ass off in first year medicine, so he had no time and most likely no brain capacity to spare.

B) Armin probably knew even less about engines than Eren.

With a long sigh, Eren decided to give up. The sun was beginning to set and he was in no mood to work into the night. He decided he'd try again tomorrow, but before giving up on aviation entirely, he texted Marco.

Eren: When are you flying down to Jean again? Want a co-pilot?

Eren's phone vibrated barely a minute later.

Marco: This Saturday, actually. Thanks, that'd be great! I'm looking to depart at 06:00 LMT so we can have as much time there as possible. That ok?

Eren: You're the captain. See you on Saturday.

At least that was one thing to look forward to. The only use his horse-faced high school rival had for Eren anymore was to build hours. After school, Jean had moved to the coast to attend university, and since Marco and Jean were still in a steady relationship, Marco flew down once in a while. Eren would always offer to fly a leg, easing the workload and the financial burden for Marco.

The high-pitched whining of the helicopter engine starting up soon turned to a whirr as the rotors gained momentum. They started to spin faster and faster until the whine and the whir were overwhelmed by the chopping sound of blades cutting through the air in a blur. The pilot's fingers deftly toggled switches as he set up his aircraft for lift-off, neglecting to use his checklist as he configured the helicopter. When he was satisfied with the checks and configuration, he held his right index finger on the PTT button on the side of his headset, depressing the button to talk.

"Karanese Central tower good…" He checked the expensive watch on his right wrist. "…afternoon. Lima Alpha Hotel."

There was a brief moment of silence before a woman with a cheerful voice called over the radio. "Lima Alpha Hotel, good afternoon to you sir! Go ahead."

"Lima Alpha Hotel, Robby forty-four, one plus one on board, request a quickie to the Karenese training area for approximately three-zero minutes."

The strawberry blonde passenger to the left of the pilot stared at him in fascination as he spoke, hearing his smooth voice through her own headset as it synchronized with the movements of his lips. A blush crept into her cheeks as she remembered just how soft those lips were, despite the man's hard personality.

"Lima Alpha Hotel, runway two-niner in use, QNH is one-zero-one-niner. After departure remain below four thousand six hundred feet and report outbound at the power station. Fuel endurance, sir?"

"One hour thirty minutes endurance. Runway two-nine, QNH one-zero-one-nine. Four six after departure to report power station." The raven-haired pilot sighed. He hated this part of flying. Incessant talking was not something he enjoyed, and would often reply curtly despite the standard radio calls already being as straightforward as legally possible.

"Read back is correct sir! Lift-off is approved. Report ready to cross the active."

"Ready to cross next."

Not even bothering to add his call-sign to the read-back, the pilot was about to increase throttle to lift the machine off the ground when the controller spoke again.

"Another date, Levi?"

The pilot hissed before depressing his PTT button again. "No. A friend."

"That's what they all say!" the controller sang.

The strawberry blonde passenger blushed a deep crimson at the controller's words, something that didn't go unnoticed by the raven-haired pilot. He clicked his tongue as he commenced the flight, letting the rotors lift the aircraft off the ground and hovering on the spot for just a moment before gently accelerating forward.

"Relax, Petra," he said when he caught a glimpse of white knuckles. "It's not like it's my first time."

"Well, it is mine!" the woman retorted.

"Just enjoy the fucking flight."

Despite it being quite bumpy due to the time of day, Petra eventually did calm down. She knew Levi was a man who could handle anything, and his cool demeanor as he expertly handled the aircraft as well as the radio work – she never knew the man could say so much in one breath – made her confidence grow. In the end, she enjoyed the scenic flight, all but forgetting the reason she'd taken it.

Only once they were back inside the terminal did Petra fully relax. Even though Levi had unwavering confidence and a control over the aircraft she couldn't think anyone could have, she was happy to have her feet planted back on mother earth's firm surface. They had barely made it into the building and Petra was already making a beeline for the bar.

At the bar, the two of them grabbed a cozy table in a corner that had two couches on opposite ends of the table. She sat on one and he sat on the other. As he looked through the menu, Petra couldn't help but look at him…really look at him. He wore a simply grey dress shirt with an open collar, and the blackest jeans she'd ever seen. His footwear consisted of dress shoes, although they seemed very casual, and the only accessory he wore was an expensive silver watch with gold detailing…or was that perhaps platinum?

"Order a drink. It's on me."

Petra snapped out of her subtle gawking at his commanding tone. She shook her head and said, "I can't do that. It's not a date."

His eyes met hers then, the grey orbs flashed dangerously despite them being deep, emotionless wells. He leaned forward and watched as she shrunk back from him despite being separated by an entire table.

"I'm a gentleman. Now order a fucking drink."

When their drinks arrived, a cocktail for Petra and an expensive whiskey for Levi, they sat in silence for the longest time as they sipped on their respective drinks. While Levi was more than content with the silence, enjoying nothing more than a whiskey after a flight, Petra felt somewhat awkward. It wasn't like it had been in the helicopter, the constant sound of the engine filling the silence. Here, in this bar, it was too quiet.

"You sure live the life, don't you," Petra suddenly said.

"Hm?" Levi raised a brow.

This could have been either an acknowledgement of the statement or a cue to continue, but Petra took it as the latter.

"You have your own chopper and tons of money…you can literally do anything you want, when you want to."

"I don't think I can afford to go to space," Levi said dryly.

Petra snorted. "Who cares about space? You have the life all men want. You probably have no problem getting women into your bed." She winced as she said that, knowing for a fact that that was the truth.

With a cocky smirk, Levi replied, "Name one millionaire with a chopper who does."

Levi eyed the woman incredulously as she shrunk back in discomfort. He knew for a fact that she was thinking about the brief relationship they had, a relationship she ended because the raven had no interest in pursuing marriage or starting a family. Ever since then, Petra had jumped onto the bandwagon that thought Levi entertained women as a hobby. Because he was such a private person, his friends and colleagues often assumed he threw his money around to gain the attention of attractive women.

They couldn't be more wrong.

Levi had no interest in sleeping around, especially with strangers. Despite the obvious risks, the man had an obsession that was borderline insane when it came to cleanliness, and entertaining random strangers would go against every fibre of his being.

Instead of correct, though, he let everyone's dirty imaginations run wild.

"Why are all pilots so cocky?" she muttered.

"Tch! Don't loop me in with those fixed-wing fuckers you like so much."

"What is with you guys and this stupid chopper-plane rivalry?" Petra cried out, remembering a bar fight her boyfriend had recently gotten into with a chopper pilot. It wasn't a serious fight, but it was absolutely ridiculous nonetheless.

"Cats and dogs."

Safety meetings were not mandatory but were highly recommended. All flight schools and charter companies at Karanese Central Airport had just made attending safety meetings mandatory for all licensed pilots based there. These were simply meetings where pilots got together and received a brush-up on one or other topic relating to aviation for half an hour, and then drank for the rest of the night.

This was Levi's first meeting and before he even made it to the bar, he already hated it. It was noisy and the music was terrible, everyone drinking the same cheap beer and laughing raucously at crude jokes. Most of the population could not have even been twenty-five, but they were acting like a bunch of immature teenagers. Levi made a note to leave as soon as he put his name on the attendance register, whether it was after the meeting or not. The topic 'weather and how it affects flying' was irrelevant to him since he only flew when the sun was out and no clouds were in sight.

He had bought two tots of the best whiskey the bar stocked, which was still a shit whiskey according to his personal standards, and was about to sit down far from the crowd when something caught his attention. A tall, lean boy who could not be a day older than sixteen stood with a beer in his hand and his booming voice dominating the entire bar area. He strutted around with a raven-haired girl at his side, calling out to people and greeting everyone he knew with loud high-fives.

But it wasn't the noise the boy was making or the boy's overwhelming aura that caught Levi's attention. It was the shirt the boy was wearing. It was a plain black T-shirt with bold red writing, the red words bordered by a thin strip of white to make them more visible. The words were simple, saying:

'I may not be perfect, but at least I'm not a helicopter pilot'

Levi's eye visibly twitched at this and he clenched his jaw as he watched the pompous brat work the room as if he owned the place. He watched as people complimented the shirt with high-fives and slaps to the shoulder, loud laughs erupting from all who laid eyes on the offending red text. Every part of Levi was begging him to grab the brat by the neck and throw him to the ground so he could curb-stomp the egotistical teen until the brat became one with the earth.

But he knew better than to do that: he was in the enemy's territory here.

Just as he was about to turn away, the boy's eyes met with his. Levi stopped mid-turn as wide, focused, ocean-green eyes locked with his, a fire in them that the man had never seen in all his life. He couldn't turn away; he was mesmerized by the deep green of the brunette boy across the room, drowning in the powerful presence of the teen as the boy commandeered his attention. After a moment, the teen smiled awkwardly, but that awkward grin still had in it the confidence of a young man who knows the world is his for the taking. Levi had no time to respond before the teen's attention was demanded elsewhere, and he turned away from Levi as if he hadn't seen the man in the first place.

"What the fuck…" Levi muttered.

After the boring, but thankfully brief, safety meeting, Levi all but ran to his car. He could not stand another millisecond of drunk youngsters talking about various aircraft and experiences they had on their flights. He wondered if these kids had anything else in common with one another or if they always only spoke about flying. But it wasn't just the raucous behavior of the young pilots that irked Levi, it was the fact that his eyes constantly searched for the brunette boy with the offensive shirt. Each time their eyes met, the ocean-green orbs would stare a second too long, the glint in them anything from playful to dangerous, but the brunette didn't smile at Levi again the entire evening. What was it about the boy and his intense gaze that had Levi searching for those eyes any chance he got?

As he approached his black, luxury SUV, he noticed a few youngsters had gathered around a motorbike parked nearby. This would've been completely inconsequential had that brat with the offensive shirt not been present. Levi's skin tingled as he remembered the boy's penetrating gazes and that single charming smile, but the man quickly composed himself and continued on his way. Until a certain sentence made him stop dead in his tracks.

"And then the prick says to me 'helicopter pilots can get it up quicker'," the brunette said, with a snicker in his voice.

"As if that old man can get it up at all," another boy, a muscular one with blonde hair added.

The group laughed, urging the brunette to continue. "And then I tune the guy 'well, fixed-wing pilots can keep it up longer'."

The group broke out into a chorus of "oooohhhh's" and "damn" and "shit" while they laughed. Levi watched from the corner of his eyes with hands balled in fists, all but infuriated by what the kids were saying. What made the man even more livid was the fact that he was being infuriated by the brats in the first place. They were nothing more than a bunch of drunk youngsters talking big because they had their safety in numbers.

"Yeah, yeah!" the brunette sang, waving his hand in the air. "Like putting it down anywhere is something to be proud of."

"Talk about zero restraint."

"Uhm…are we still talking about flying?" a black-haired boy asked through his laughter.

"We all know the urge to have a chopper license it so compensate for life's little shortcomings," the brawny blonde said with a suggestive wink that sent the laughing crowd of teens into an absolute fit of howling.

"Those fucking brats!" Levi growled. Before he could let them aggravate him any further, he jerked his car's door open and had the engine on before the door was even shut.

Eren watched as the black SUV spun its wheels in an obvious hurry to vacate the area, and the brunette wondered who that could be. He'd never seen that car at a safety meeting before. In fact, he had never seen the well-dressed raven sipping on a whiskey before either. For a moment, he spaced out as he tried to verify this fact. The man couldn't have been attending as someone's partner since every time the brunette looked at the man, he the mysterious man was alone. Perhaps he was someone from another school…

A smack on his shoulder brought the brunette back down to earth. He shook his head with a frown, wondering why the hell it even mattered. The man was a stranger, and the boy would probably never see him again. Unless he really was a pilot operating at Karanese Central, in which case, the brunette would see the man in one month at the next safety meeting.

Eren smiled at this, not caring that it was a strange thing to want to see that dark stranger again. There was something about the man, something that drew his eyes to the man, something that kept him from smiling despite wanting to. There was something about the man that had caught the young pilot's interest, and once the persistent brunette had his sights set on something, it was impossible to divert his focus.

I hope you enjoyed the story! Follow, favorite, review, do whatever you must! But I will be posting chapters hopefully soon so encouragement and feedback will be wonderful!