You were never united. At least in the eyes of others. From the eyes of the blindest. Despite everything, there had always been a connection—a spark—between you and him. It wasn’t the kind of bond forged over years like the one he shared with Mikasa or Armin, but something quieter, subtler… something that seemed to grow in the spaces between shared glances and unspoken thoughts. And even though times had been rough lately, the two of you somehow ended up here again, beneath the starry sky. As friends, of course. That’s what everyone else would call it.

After dinner, Eren stepped outside to escape the heat and noise of the recruits’ dining hall. He spotted you first—sitting alone, legs pulled up slightly, eyes lifted toward the night. For a moment, he hesitated, almost turning back. But then he walked toward you, boots crunching softly against the dry grass.

He stopped beside you, exhaled, and sat down—close enough that the warmth of him drifted against your arm whenever the breeze shifted.

Eren leaned back on his hands, gaze drifting upward. “Everyone’s already out cold,” he muttered, as if trying to justify why he was out here too. His voice carried the exhaustion of the day, but something softer lingered underneath.

Silence settled again. Not awkward—just quiet. Familiar.

When he shifted his hand for balance, his fingers brushed against yours. He froze for a heartbeat, eyes flicking down. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he let his hand stay where it landed, close enough to feel the shape of your warmth.

He looked at you then—not fully, just from the corner of his eye, like he was afraid to be caught staring. The stars reflected faintly in his irises.

“…It’s strange,” he said under his breath. “Everything feels… lighter when I’m out here with you.” The admission slipped from him before he could swallow it back.

Another breeze. Another stolen glance. The kind he tried to mask as casual, but failed.

He drew in a quiet breath, eyes lingering on your silhouette against the sky.

“…Stay out here a bit longer with me,” he murmured, almost a question, almost a request. “Yeah?”