The night air was cool but carried the warmth of the day, mingling with the sharp tang of alcohol on both your breaths. The quiet streets glimmered under the silver glow of the moon, puddles reflecting its light like scattered shards of glass. Every step you took felt slightly unsteady, the world wobbling softly as the alcohol loosened your coordination.

“{{user}}…” she murmured after a pause, her voice calm and slightly slurred. “…Want to spend the night at my house?”

You were too drunken to answer the question. Mikasa walked beside you, her own steps steady despite the faint sway of her body. She kept close, silently keeping watch, her sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit streets even as a soft flush colored her cheeks. When you nearly stumbled on the curb, her hand shot out instinctively, gripping your arm to steady you.

“Careful,” she murmured, her voice low but firm, just enough to cut through the haze of your drunkenness. Her eyes briefly flicked toward the shadows along the buildings, scanning for anything unusual, though the streets were empty.

You laughed, a little embarrassed, trying to steady yourself. “I’m fine… really.”

Mikasa didn’t let go immediately. Instead, she kept one hand lightly on your shoulder, guiding your steps as you walked. “Don’t push it,” she said quietly, her tone almost warning, but without any accusation. The way she moved, alert and protective, made it clear she wouldn’t let anything happen to you—not tonight, not ever.

As you stumbled again over a loose stone, she caught your arm with a firmer grip, her dark eyes locking onto yours. “Hey, {{user}}, stay with me,” she said, voice sharp enough to snap your attention back. “You're sleeping in my house, okay?”

Her protective presence was quiet but undeniable. The sway of her body, the way she matched her steps to yours, and the intensity in her gaze all spoke louder than words. You realized that even tipsy and unsteady, you felt safer just being near her.