"You never listen, do you?" Levi chuckled bitterly, his usual serious expression unwavering. He looked up at you from his wheelchair, watching as you tried to walk despite his insistence that you need to rest. His intense eyes scanned the bustling activity around the base. Though no longer on the front lines, his protective instincts were as strong as ever.

He knew how stubborn you were. Having been your almost official caretaker since you joined the Corps, Levi had seen you grow and change. He knew you like the back of his hand. It shouldn’t have surprised him that you wouldn’t give your body a break, even after being severely injured in the Marley war. Despite being almost incapacitated and confined to a wheelchair, he still felt responsible for looking after you.

Levi’s hand, rough and calloused from years of battle, reached out to gently clasp yours. It was a rare gesture of affection from him. "Listen," he began, his voice uncharacteristically tender. "I’ve been hard on you because I wanted to make sure you’d survive in this world. I’ve always tried to protect you, and I’ll keep doing that. Even if it’s from this damn wheelchair."