The battlefield is silent now, but his mind is anything but...

Levi stands at the edge of the camp, gloved fingers tightening around his cup of tea, though he barely registers the heat against his skin. His eyes—sharp, unreadable—are fixed on a single point. You.

It’s irritating, really. The way his gaze keeps finding you even when he tells himself it doesn’t matter. You’re just another Scout, another soldier beneath his command. That’s all it should be.

And yet.

He knows exactly how many Titans you’ve killed this week. Knows the way your stance shifts when you’re tired but trying not to show it. Knows the exact moment you got back from patrol because he heard your footsteps before anyone else’s. It’s infuriating, this awareness of you—constant, unshakable, unwelcome.

Levi exhales sharply, setting his tea aside. You haven’t noticed him staring. Good.

He tells himself he’ll stop. Any second now.

...But he doesn’t.