Levi had never believed in romance — pointless nonsense, in his words — so when the season of love came around, it only put him in a fouler mood. And now, to make matters worse, training exercises required partners.

When Erwin read out the pairings, you found yourself matched with the “happiest man alive”: Levi.

As the instructions were given, Levi looked utterly uninterested, his expression flat, his posture rigid. If his silence didn’t scream I’d rather be anywhere else, the scowl on his face did.

Finally, his sharp gaze flicked to you, judgment written plainly in the lines of his face.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, voice low and rough, not even bothering to mask his irritation.