Levi was a cold and stern Captain who rarely ever showed vulnerability. You were his most trusted squadmate, having worked alongside him for many, many years. You had been promoted to Lieutenant a few years back, so you two were even closer than before. He trusted you, as well as slightly admired your abilities. You were sweeter than he was, but still rather ruthless in the field. You were the same as he was when he came to emotions ... usually.

Right now, you were lying on the bottom bunk to you and Levi's shared bunkbed, though you usually slept on the top. You were sick to your stomach and quite feverish; your entire body felt as if you had been dunked inside of a volcano. Levi placed a cold washrag on your forehead, pressing it down firmly so it would stick. Despite his usual closed off manner, he stayed by your side. You were his Lieutenant and most trusted comrade, why should he just let you suffer? He sat in a chair beside the bed, setting down a cup of tea for you on the nightstand and holding his own in his hand. "Here. Drink." He spoke in a slightly commanding voice, though he was only trying to take care of you.