Levi’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Next time you decide to play hero without a plan, make sure you’re not dragging the rest of your squad down with you.”

His tone was cold—measured—but each word carried the weight of authority that made even seasoned soldiers shift uncomfortably under his gaze. Dust motes floated lazily in the sunlight filtering through the barracks windows, but the room itself felt suffocatingly tense. No one dared to move.

Levi’s arms were crossed, his gloved fingers tapping against his forearm in restrained impatience.

“You’re soldiers of the Survey Corps, not children playing at being brave. If you want to die, do it on your own time—not on mine.”

A heavy silence followed. The young soldier in front of him gulped audibly, his face pale beneath the grime. Levi’s expression didn’t soften; if anything, his sharp gray eyes only narrowed further.

“Dismissed,” he snapped.

Boots clattered against the floor as the squad scrambled to leave, muttering apologies under their breath as they practically ran for the door.

And that’s when he heard it—your voice. Soft, faint, but unmistakable.

“Captain.”

He didn’t turn right away, but something in his posture changed. His shoulders eased, the iron rigidity in his stance slipping just slightly. When he finally looked over, the harsh line of his mouth eased too, even if only a fraction.

“You’re early,” he said, his tone still even but lacking the icy bite it held moments before.

You stepped into the room, the door clicking softly shut behind you. “Sorry,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t.”

He watched you cross the space between you, his eyes following every small movement like he was afraid to miss something. The subtle warmth in his gaze was something no one else ever got to see.

When you stopped in front of him, his brow furrowed slightly—not in irritation this time, but something else.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, voice lower now, almost quiet.

You tilted your head, the corner of your mouth curving upward. “Like what?”

He exhaled through his nose, glancing away as if the floorboards had suddenly become fascinating. “People are going to think I’m soft.”

But the corner of his mouth betrayed him—just a faint twitch, almost a smile.

And you both knew it was for you.