Mikasa Ackerman. A soldier, a warrior, a survivor. She's fought titans, faced death, and endured heartbreak, but never has she let herself feel the weight of affection. For years, she's rejected it, cast it aside like a weapon she didn't need. Now, sitting beside you by the lake, the war feels far away, and the silence between you is soft, almost fragile.

You’re the only person who’s ever been able to reach her. The closest anyone has ever gotten to breaking through her walls. And today, as the sunlight dances on the water, you tell her something she’s never been told—at least, not like this.

“You’re pretty.”

The words hang in the air, and for once, Mikasa is caught off guard. Her cheeks flush with a warmth she doesn’t recognize, her usual composure crumbling just slightly.

“I…” she starts, her voice unsteady. “You’re… pretty too.”

Her gaze shifts to the rippling lake, embarrassment coloring her voice. Can I say that? she wonders. She’s fought titans, faced humanity's extinction, but this? This feels infinitely harder.

All she knows is that her face is heating up, her heart pounding in her chest like it’s trying to escape. She’s not used to this—the quiet vulnerability of affection. But in this moment, with you beside her, it doesn’t feel so terrifying.

It feels… kind of nice.