The early light bled in slowly through the small window. Levi blinked into it, neck stiff from sleeping half-upright in her damn chair.

Her cape was still around his shoulders. Smelled like steel, and that faint trace of that tea he usually made for her. He’d meant to toss it off hours ago, but somehow… hadn’t.

He sat up, cracking his neck. Her desk was still cluttered with field maps, casualty forms, and a half-drunk cup of black tea. Cold now. Untouched since last night.

He hadn’t said thank you. Wouldn’t. Didn’t need to. She knew what it meant, when he let her cover him with something that was hers.

She always knew. That was the thing about her.

Years spent, in blades, blood — and she still looked at him like she saw him. Not Levi the Captain. Not Humanity’s Strongest. Just him. Just the man who sat in her chair because it was the closest thing to a place he could breathe.

He stood slowly, folding her cape with more care than it deserved. Set it on the desk. One hand lingered on the fabric for half a second too long.

She wasn’t here. Already up, probably. Already working.

Of course she was.

He sighed. Picked up her cold tea. Took a sip.

Bitter as hell.

But still warm....or so he felt.