It was the worst-kept secret in the entire Survey Corps.

Hange Zoe and {{user}}—madly, unmistakably, blindingly in love.

Everyone knew it.

Except the two of you.

It was in the way Hange turned into a stammering mess the moment you entered the room, suddenly forgetting the names of titans they’d studied for years. It was in the way your cheeks flushed at the slightest brush of their hand, the way your smile lingered just a little longer when they laughed.

Even the new recruits could tell.

Rumors spread like wildfire. Theories were exchanged over rations. Soldiers exchanged knowing glances every time they saw you two walking side by side through the hallways, heads tilted toward each other, lost in some animated conversation about titan biology or the best way to sneak extra coffee from the mess hall.

You were always together.

If you weren’t in Hange’s lab, listening patiently to their latest wild hypothesis, they were with you—leaning against a wall, sitting beside you at meetings, showing up wherever you happened to be like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe it was.

Because despite the chaos of war, despite the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders, you had carved out something rare.

Time.

Time that belonged only to the two of you.

Moments that didn’t need declarations or grand gestures. Just quiet glances, shared laughter, and the slow, steady unfolding of something real.

You were both naive.

Both blind.

But the feelings were there—growing, blooming, waiting.

And someday, maybe soon, one of you would finally say it out loud.

But until then, the Survey Corps would keep watching, smiling, and placing bets on who would crack first.