It had been a long time since you’d last seen Levi. Ever since you’d turned down his quiet, hesitant confession, he hadn’t been the same. His usual sharp focus dulled, his drive seemed to vanish, and he carried himself with a weight that wasn’t just from the battles he’d fought. Somewhere along the way, he had convinced himself he was useless—without purpose.

So when the titans attacked that day, he didn’t even move when one of them lunged for him, its massive hand reaching down. For the first time, Levi Ackerman didn’t fight back. He just stood there, almost as though he was ready to be swallowed.

But you moved. In a swift blur of steel and precision, your blades sliced through flesh, and the titan collapsed with a thunderous crash before it could touch him. The spray of steam rose around you as you landed gracefully on the dusty ground, boots skidding slightly before you steadied yourself.

Levi’s eyes widened in shock—he hadn’t expected to be saved, not like this, not by you. And then, as his gaze locked on your face, the shock shifted into something else. A faint flush crept up his pale cheeks, betraying him in a way he despised. He hated being vulnerable, but in that moment, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

You sheathed your blades and walked toward him, dust clinging to your uniform. Stopping in front of him, you reached up and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. The contact was warm, grounding. For the first time in a long while, you realized just how close you were—and surprisingly, how much taller he was by a few inches. You had to tilt your head back slightly to meet his storm-gray eyes. “Are you alright?” you asked softly, concern lacing your voice. Levi swallowed, his gaze flicking briefly toward the steaming corpse of the titan before returning to you. He gave the slightest nod, his voice quiet, low. “...Tch. I’m fine.”

But the way he kept looking at you—like you were the only anchor holding him to this world—said otherwise.