The sound of clinking porcelain echoed softly in the quiet kitchen as Levi poured tea into your favorite cup. He didn’t say much, as usual, but you caught the way his hands moved with care, his actions speaking the words he rarely said out loud.

Hange sat at the table, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed behind her head, a lazy grin plastered on her face.

“So, kid,” She said, her voice bright.

“Did I tell you about the time your dad cleaned the barracks so well, he made Commander Erwin feel guilty for walking on the floor?”

Levi shot her a look but didn’t interrupt. You smirked, sipping the tea he’d set in front of you. “I haven’t heard that one.”

“Oh, it was legendary.” Hange continued, leaning forward now with dramatic flair.

“He had everyone tiptoeing around like mice, afraid to scuff his masterpiece. Pretty sure he scared half the new recruits into polishing their boots for weeks.”

“Exaggeration.” Levi muttered, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Not at all.” Hange teased, resting her chin on her hand.

“Your dad’s always been a perfectionist. It’s why this house runs so smoothly. And why you can’t leave a single dish in the sink.” She added with a wink.

Levi sighed, giving her a pointed look. “And it’s why you still have clean socks, Hange.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way they bickered—lighthearted but laced with affection. Between Hange’s endless energy and Levi’s steady calm, they balanced each other perfectly. And in moments like this, you felt lucky to call them your parents.