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When he met Allen, it happened over time. He noticed the shape of his collarbone, how thin his neck was, and his skinny arms. His human hand was callused and small, and his cursed hand looked almost like it was covered in scales. It was kinda cool. Pretty, even. Really, Allen himself was kind of pretty. Like a dandelion ready to scatter. Something ephemeral, and something that might fly away if you got too close. Allen was definitely not anything close to the busty women Lavi joked about, and he had none of the curves, and that made him too real. He wasn't some figure in Lavi's head with red lips and blonde hair that curled over her shoulders, he was right in front of him. Every thread in Allen's grey vest, every white eyelash, all within Lavi's reach. It was terrifying, sometimes.
In all his forty-nine lives, he'd been warned about getting too close. And in every single life, he'd laughed it off, because he was so sure it would never happen. He never cared enough. He was just an asshole, right? A bookman. That was it. But this stupid order, all the people in it, they got under your skin like needles, and stayed there. And Allen was more like a bullet than anything else. It felt kind of like he'd ripped right into Lavi's rib-cage, and nestled there, between his ribs, just below his heart. Which was ridiculous. Of course it was ridiculous. But he still couldn't breathe right when Allen smiled, especially if he was smiling at him.
.
Lavi felt something unnervingly like jealousy when he saw Allen and Lenalee walking close together in the cafeteria. They were smiling, and Allen looked open, even though Lavi knew better than anyone there that he was exactly the opposite, because that was the kind of fake smile he gave everyone in the Order. But it still kinda sparked a weird fire in his gut, and that just irritated him, so he backpedaled and went to the library, instead. Books were more of a security blanket than anything else he'd ever had in his lives.
It smelled musty inside, like history was floating in the very particles of dust that drifted through the air, and it was probably the best smell in the world. Age, and knowledge, and all the things that he'd eventually have to know. What a life. He sat at a table in the very back of the room, with a tall, thin window on the wall—one of the only in the entire library—covered in piles of books from his last visit. He'd already read most of them, and had been in the middle of an in-depth record of the history of Japan, which was one country he'd probably never be able to visit properly, considering that it was completely ruled by the Earl. It was all pretty interesting, partly because of his own half-heritage, but it was nothing particularly new or riveting.
Thinking about it, Lenalee and Komui were Chinese, weren't they. Japan had historically had poor relations with China, which was funny, considering Lavi liked Lenalee just fine. Well. He liked her, and Komui. Of course. He ran this thumb over the corner of the page he was on, thinking. Lenalee was a sweet kid. They were almost the same age, really, but she was closer in age to Allen, so it seemed like they got along well. And there it was, again. Somehow, back to Allen. It was really... frustrating. It was like everything in the world went back to this kid and his white hair, as if Allen was the center of something bigger than anyone else. As a bookman, he was interested. As a human being, he was enthralled, and he couldn't understand why. It wasn't to say Allen wasn't special. Sure he was. He was cursed, for one thing, and he was cute, for another, and he always smelled nice.
Lavi yanked his bandanna over his eyes and put his chin down on the table, pressing the heel of his left hand into his eye until he could see stars. God. Okay. What was it about him? His eyes were cool, yeah, maybe even beautiful, but they were kind of weird, and they made Lavi uncomfortable sometimes. He pulled his bandanna down around his neck and stared at the books in front of him, at the yellow pages and fraying seams, and thought, he has a pretty face, too , and smacked himself in the nose. He was just. Screwed. He didn't need two eyes to see that.
.
Allen had a lot of hidden sides, more than Lavi thought it was possible for someone to have, and it was kind of charming, and kind of terrifying. He smiled a lot, and it wasn't always nice, but it always set Lavi's heart beating twice as hard. And that was really embarrassing. It was probably impossible that Allen didn't notice Lavi's ears turning red half the time their eyes met, but Lavi was mostly certain that he managed to keep cool on the surface. Probably. He always smiled twice as hard to make up for any uncertainty, and to try and hide the slight tremors in this hands.
Allen was able to see through almost anyone he met, though, which made it uncertain. What if he was just pretending he hadn't noticed anything to be polite? Maybe he really was just dense. Somehow that seemed like him, but then again, the kid was freakishly sharp when it suited him. Either way, it became comfortable to lean on him, throw an arm around his smaller shoulders, nearly pressing their cheeks together. It felt like cheating, almost, but if it was all he'd ever get, he'd take it.
.
After a year, Allen had grown taller than Lenalee. He was a bit broader, less like a waif, and more solid. Months kept coming and going, and Allen's voice lowered with the time passing. Lenalee's hair burned short, and Kanda was away, travelling with Tiedoll. Landing on the shores of the infested Japan, and sacrificing the entire crew, following a somehow pacified akuma, seeing the Earl in person, all just to find Allen's teacher—how did this kid keep getting into so much trouble? First he died, and now they were all trapped in an Ark, just because they'd been trying to find his teacher.
And then, of course, trying to fight the Noahs had been a friggin' disaster, and all of them had nearly died. Road's illusions, all her mind tricks—even coming back to the Order, Lavi had nightmares about it. The smell of the water, stagnant, and all the blood in the air. The screams, the lecturing, and Allen's brain being blown out by his own self. He was absolutely a failure as a bookman, and he understood, because just that had been enough for Crowley and Lenalee to come up and embrace him, although he had stabbed himself in desperation. He couldn't forget it. Weeks later, months, even: still, he could feel the pain in his abdomen, and the vision of Allen's body sinking into black water, headless and reaching. His own voice, telling him it didn't matter.
But then he remembered Allen's voice, yelling, screaming, and the warmth of Allen's hand on his arm, yanking him from his own fire, and he thinks, maybe the nightmares will end one day. Maybe in the end, all he would remember was talking to himself as a child, and coming to, surrounded by fire, and being saved by a white haired clown. Maybe he would remember closing his eyes, listening to Allen's soft chuckles, and Lenalee punching him as she sobbed. Everything afterwards. Allen's fingers, unsteady on the piano keys, and Komui's warm smile, open arms, and “Welcome home.”
So it's not entirely bad, he supposed. On the nights he's woken up by seeing himself stab Allen's false body, he looked at the pitch black of the night, and listened to the old man snoring lightly. Everything, for now, was okay. He was alive. Allen was two floors down, on the other side of the tower, and Lenalee was three, and just underneath. Crowley, Yuu, all of them. He thought of Allen walking close enough to brush arms as they walked back into the Order's safety, and was able to go back to sleep.
.
Eventually, it would all be over, and Allen wouldn't be like a blinding light that would fade away at any moment, anymore. He'd be like the sun; constant, bright, and warm. Stronger. And he'd always come back. Lavi would have to move on to his next life, his next name, but at least Allen would be alive, and okay, and there . And maybe that was what was important. As long as you were alive, you could see each other again. Something like that.
He might have been a failure as a bookman, but somehow, when Allen smiled at him, Lavi felt like he didn't mind.