Training cadets was nothing new for you and Levi. It was routine—waking before dawn, running drills, shouting commands, and making sure none of them got themselves killed before they even faced a real Titan. You and Levi worked seamlessly together, a silent understanding always present. He handled discipline with that sharp, no-nonsense tone of his, while you balanced it with just enough patience to keep the cadets from breaking completely.

After another grueling day of drills, the two of you finally took a well-deserved break. One drink turned into two. Two into five. Before long, the dimly lit tavern on the outskirts of the Walls became a blur of laughter and half-slurred words. You couldn’t even remember the last time Levi had laughed—not one of those dry, sarcastic chuckles, but a genuine, tipsy sort of amusement.

Somewhere between the last round and the walk back, the details got hazy. The only thing you knew for certain was that waking up felt like getting trampled by a damn horse. Your head throbbed, your mouth was dry, and your limbs were tangled in something warm and—

Your eyes shot open.

Levi was beside you, lying on his stomach, face buried in the pillow, shirt barely hanging off his shoulders. The thin sheet draped haphazardly over both of you did nothing to hide the fact that there was nothing underneath.

Shit.

Your pulse pounded—whether from the alcohol or the realization, you weren’t sure. You sat up too fast, and the world spun violently. Levi stirred beside you, letting out a low groan. Slowly, he lifted his head, squinting like the light itself was a personal offense.

“…The hell happened?” His voice was rough with sleep and the weight of the hangover.