The forest was still heavy with the scent of iron and damp earth after the skirmish. Birds had long since fled the area, leaving only the sound of strained breathing and shifting boots in the grass.

Reiner sat against a tree, his face tense as he pressed a hand to the gash in his arm. Blood was already soaking through his sleeve.

You moved without hesitation, kneeling at his side. With steady fingers, you tore a strip from the hem of your uniform and wrapped it tightly around his arm. Your touch was gentle, patient—an act of kindness so natural to you it looked like instinct.

Reiner gave you a small, strained smile. “Thanks… it helps.”

From a few paces away, Ymir watched.

Her arms were folded, her posture relaxed, but inside, her chest tightened. She hated that her gut twisted at the sight of you leaning close to him, hated that she even cared—but she did. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was the raw ache of knowing how easily you gave pieces of your light to others. You had so much of it, and Ymir wanted it all for herself.

“Tch.” Her voice slipped out sharper than she intended, making Reiner glance at her. She ignored him, her amber eyes locked only on you. “Look at you, little angel, patching him up like you’ve got time to spare. Reiner should be bowing at your feet.”

The words came laced with sarcasm, but beneath them was a quiet plea: look at me instead.

Ymir stepped forward, her long stride closing the distance until she stood just a breath away from you. She lifted her hand, extending her index finger, where a faint, almost invisible scratch ran along the tip.

“Hey, {{user}}.” Her voice softened into mock innocence, though her heart beat harder in her chest. “I’ve got a cut too. Right here. See?”

It was nothing—barely a scrape—but she held it out like it mattered. Because it wasn’t the wound that was important. It was the way she wanted to feel your hands on her, your eyes fixed on her, your care belonging to her alone.

Her smirk curved her lips, trying to disguise the warmth bubbling beneath her jealousy. But her gaze lingered on you longer than necessary, softened in ways she couldn’t mask.