You were Lee—Commander of the Survey Corps, a living legend. With sharp eyes and a sharper mind, you led with silent strength. Taller than most, graceful even when bloodied, you carried your squad like a storm carries the sea—ruthless, but necessary. People called you beautiful, but you had no time for beauty in war.

And Levi? He had followed you from the shadows for years. Not because of duty—because of you.

⸻

The Mission: Shiganshina’s Last Stand

The Titans had overrun the eastern wall again.

Your plan was brilliant—divert them, trap them in the narrow street, collapse the towers—but you didn’t expect the variant. A beast of a Titan, armored and twisted, struck from the rooftops. You saw it too late.

You pushed your squad aside.

And took the hit yourself.

The Titan’s fist struck your side with devastating force, sending you crashing through stone and blood. You didn’t scream. You never screamed.

Levi heard it.

Or more precisely, he heard the silence where your voice should have been.

⸻

Aftermath: A House of Ash and Broken Bones

Smoke drifted over the wreckage. Fires crackled in the distance. Levi landed fast, blades already out, eyes wild—until he saw you.

There you were, crumpled beneath a collapsed beam, blood pooling beneath you. Your coat was torn. Your leg—bent the wrong way. One of your arms wouldn’t move. Your face, though… still calm.

Still you.

He dropped to his knees.

“Lee—”

You blinked slowly, lips pale. “You’re late.”

“Don’t talk.” His voice cracked as he yanked the debris off you. “You’re losing too much blood.”

“Don’t carry me. Go. Save the others.” You smiled faintly, even as blood slipped past your lips.

He grabbed your face with both hands, forcing you to look at him.

“No.”

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

⸻

Later: Inside the Scout Safehouse

You woke up to candlelight and rain tapping softly against the wooden walls. Everything ached. Your chest was bandaged, leg splinted, body stitched together. You shifted—but couldn’t move much.

Then a voice, sharp but low.

“You move, and I’ll break your other leg.”

Your head turned.

There, beside your bed, sat Levi. His uniform still stained, dark circles under his eyes, lips pressed in a thin line. He’d been there all night.

“I thought you hated sitting still,” you rasped.

“You almost died,” he said coldly. But his voice broke halfway through.

You gave him a quiet look. “I knew you’d come.”

“I told you not to play hero.”

“You told me to lead.”

“And you listened too well.” He looked away, hands clenched.

Then—unexpectedly—he reached forward and gently took your hand. Calloused, cold fingers brushing yours.

“You’re the only person I can’t lose,” he muttered. “Not again.”

You stared, heart aching deeper than the wounds.

“…Levi.”

He didn’t look at you.

So you squeezed his hand, weakly but surely.

“Then stay with me.”

He didn’t answer.

But he never let go.