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Dawn rises over headquarters in a pale grey. It’s cold enough that every breath fogs in front of every soldier preparing in the courtyard. Horses stomp impatiently against the half-frozen ground. The clinking of buckles, blades, and ODM gear mingle with small conversations.
You’re pulling the final strap around your thigh when Levi appears beside you without warning. “Hold still,” he says. You look down as he grabs the loose end of your harness and tugs it before checking the buckle himself.
“I’ve been doing this for years,” you remind him.
“And somehow, you’re still careless.”
You see the short hesitation when his hand brushes your side, the warmth of his hand lingering through your uniform. It means nothing—that’s what you’ve been telling yourself, anyway. It always means nothing.
“You worry too much,” you say, trying to drown the beating of your heart with light teasing.
Levi straightens himself, irritation flashing across his face. “You give me too many reasons.”
Before you can answer, he walks away toward his horse, though not without looking back once to make sure you’re following him. He always looks back. You’ve spent too long pretending not to notice it.
But you always do.
.
The expedition remains quiet until the Scouts reach the abandoned village three kilometers from the wall, where ruined houses lean against one another and broken roof beams claw toward the sky.
Then the warning flare rises. Red smoke rises above the eastern edge of the village as shouting erupts. Within moments, Titans emerge between the buildings, their footsteps shaking loose tiles from the rooftops.
Erwin’s orders cut through the chaos. “Get above them! Do not let yourselves get boxed in!”
You fire your hooks into a stone chimney and rise, gas hissing as you swing toward the nearest roof. Levi moves through the village a few buildings ahead. His eyes snap toward you. Checking the formation, he would claim. Checking you, your foolish heart insists.
A scream rips through the air. A young soldier stands frozen on a rooftop, staring at the abnormal charging toward him with its unusually long arms sweeping through the street. Levi changes direction immediately, but he’s too far away.
You aren’t. You propel yourself forward, hook your arms around the soldier, and wrench him from the roof just as the Titan’s hand crashes through the building. The impact shatters the tiles beneath you. Your anchor loosens.
Then you fall through splintered timber. A jagged beam slices deep along your side before you hit the ground, pain exploding through your ribs. Somewhere nearby, the younger soldier calls your name, but his voice sounds strangely distant, muffled beneath the pounding in your skull. Warmth spread beneath your uniform. Too much warmth. You press a shaking hand against your side and pull it away slick with blood.
No. No, that is far too much.
The abnormal doesn’t get to take another step. Levi descends and carves through its nape so viciously that blood sprays and steam erupts across the street. He lands beside you before the Titan’s body begins falling, his shoes skidding through dust as he drops to one knee.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he barks.
You try to smile, though your lips feel numb. “Good to see you too.”
Then Levi sees the blood. His face changes; the anger remains, but there’s something so nakedly terrified that you almost don’t recognize him.
“Move your hand,” he orders.
“It’s fine—”
“Move it.”
You obey, sighing. The moment your hand lifts, blood wells through the torn fabric. Levi presses part of his cloak hard against the wound. The pain rips a cry from you.
“Stay awake,” he says.
“I am.” Your eyelids flutter despite the lie. Levi’s free hand cups the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. His hand trembles slightly.
“You’re going to be fine,” he says.
You want to believe him. You want to tell him all the things you’ve swallowed for years, but your vision is blurring, the world is dimming, and the words refuse to form.
“I’m tired, Levi,” you whisper.
“No,” he says. “If you die on me after everything I’ve done for you… I’ll never forgive you.”
You manage to grip his wrist weakly. “I’ll try not to inconvenience you.”
“Shut up.” But he bends closer as he says it, his forehead nearly touching yours while he keeps pressure against your side.
He refuses to let anyone else carry you back.
.
When you wake, the infirmary is dark except for a low-burning lamp beside your bed. Bandages wrap tightly around your midsection, and every breath is painful, pulling at the stitches along your side. Your mouth is dry, your body is heavy, but you’re alive.
Levi sits in a chair beside you. His arms are folded, his head tilted forward, though the instant you move beneath the blanket, he opens his eyes.
“You look terrible,” you whisper.
“You nearly bled to death, and that’s what you have to say?” he scoffs.
Relief surges through him so fiercely that it almost makes him angry all over again. He’s spent hours listening to your shaky breathing, imagining if silence will ever replace it, and now you’re awake and joking as if you didn’t nearly die.
“How long have you been here?” you ask.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Levi stands and reaches for the cup of water beside your bed, helping you lift your head just enough to drink. His touch is careful, but you can still see the tension in his jaw.
“You broke formation,” he says.
“That soldier would have died.”
“You almost died instead.”
“But I didn’t.”
Levi freezes. You misunderstand his silence, shame gathering in you. He’s angry. You endangered the mission, forced him to carry you back, and became one more responsibility he never asked for. You wouldn’t be surprised if he hates you right now.
“You don’t have to stay,” you say softly. “I know you have more important things to do.”
He looks at you, bewildered. For years, Levi has checked your equipment when he didn’t need to, memorized your position in every formation, endured your awful tea when you insisted on making it for him, and watched you walk away after countless evenings together because he could never find the courage to ask you to stay. And somehow, you still don’t know.
“Can you not see that I love you? That I’ve always loved you?” The confession leaves him harshly, almost angrily, and the room falls into a hush in response. He looks away first, regret filling his expression. Regret for exposing his love, for placing the most fragile thing he could have between you.
You lift your hand from under the blanket and grab his hand, tears welling in your eyes. “Levi…” He turns back slowly, raising his eyes to meet yours. You let out a soft laugh, one of both disbelief and relief. “I’ve waited so long to hear this.”
“You—”
“I love you too,” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his. “I knew your idea of affection was criticizing everything I do.”
“Everything you do needs criticizing.”
A breathless laugh escapes you, causing a flare of pain in your side. His expression softens, though you still see the remaining uncertainty in the slight furrow of his brows. Levi Ackerman can face Titans without hesitation, but apparently, what he’s about to do requires more courage than any battle.
He cups your cheek with his hand. The first touch of his lips is gentle, almost restrained, but when you kiss him back, he inhales sharply, and years of unspoken longing translates through the pressure of his mouth against yours. You don’t deepen the kiss—neither of you wants to. Not now. Not when everything still feels so fragile. This is enough.
When he pulls away, he brushes your hair back with his fingers. “Never do that to me again,” he murmurs.
“Is that an order?” you tease.
“Yes.”
You smile, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “So does this mean you’ll stop insulting me?”
Levi presses one more kiss to your forehead, the love he holds for you finally outweighing the fear still lingering in his eyes.
“You wish.”