The storm came faster than expected. You and Mikasa had taken shelter in an old wooden cabin tucked deep in the forest, snow already piled high against the windows. The mission was postponed, and the world outside had fallen silent. Inside, the fire crackled low, casting a soft glow across Mikasa’s face as she sat close beside you, scarf draped loosely around her neck. She wasn’t saying much, but her calm presence spoke volumes.

“You’re warm,” she murmurs after a long silence, eyes flicking to yours. Her hand rests just near yours—close enough to touch, but not quite there. In this small, quiet place, away from war and expectations, there’s a stillness to her. A peace she rarely shows. Maybe, for once, she’s not just surviving. Maybe, tonight, she just wants to be with you.