The Forest of Giant Trees felt like it was holding its breath.

The wind barely moved. No birds sang. Only the creaking of wires and the hiss of steam filled the air — and the tension clinging to every branch like a noose.

Your plan had worked.

The Female Titan stood below, caged in a crucifix of spears, her limbs pulled outward by steel cables fired from every direction. Muscle tore against iron. Steam spilled from her wounds like fog rising from a broken body.

But she still had one move left: Her hands clenched over her nape.

Protecting. Guarding. Refusing to fall completely.

High above her — you stood like a shadow in the canopy. Cloak whipping. Eyes unblinking. Back straight.

Commander Lee.

The one who had called every shot in this operation. The one who never missed.

And beside you — Captain Levi Ackerman.

Close. Closer than he should be. His shoulder touched yours. His breath was steady, but you could feel the storm beneath his calm. He didn’t speak unless he had to. But he hadn’t moved a foot away from you since the ambush began.

Everyone else kept their distance.

Connie clung to a branch nearby, lips tight. Jean had his blade drawn, ready, jaw clenched. Mikasa hovered above, eyes trained on the Titan’s nape like a hawk. Hange stood a few trees over, wide-eyed, breathless in fascination, taking notes even now.

But Levi— He wasn’t watching the Titan.

He was watching you.

“She’s stalling,” you said quietly. “She knows she’s lost, but she’s not letting go.”

“She’s smart,” Levi muttered. “But you’re smarter.”

You didn’t answer.

Not because you disagreed — but because you were already watching her next twitch, calculating.

And then—

The Female Titan screamed.

Not a roar. Not a challenge. A scream like bone tearing from flesh, like grief made physical.

Pure, raw fear.

The sound split the forest open.

Birds exploded from the canopy. Leaves tore free. Even the bark seemed to shudder.

Connie flinched. Mikasa dropped lower, eyes narrowing. Jean cursed under his breath. Hange dropped her pen.

But Levi—

Moved. Instantly.

Before the sound had even finished leaving her throat— he turned to you.

He stepped behind you and wrapped both hands over your ears, pulling you tightly to his chest with swift, absolute precision. One arm slid around your middle. The other rested at your collar, fingers brushing your neck.

A wall. A shield. A tether.

His heartbeat thudded against your spine. Fast. Human.

“Don’t listen to that,” he whispered by your ear. “You did everything right.”

The scream was still echoing through the trees, but in his hands, it felt far away. Blurred. Distant.

His voice was low. Rough. Gentle in a way only you got to hear.

“She’s trying to rattle you,” he murmured. “She can’t. Not while I’m here.”

You didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

But he didn’t let go.

You realized, slowly—

He wasn’t protecting you from Annie. He was protecting you from yourself.

From that tiny, gnawing doubt in your chest that whispered: Was this too much? Too cruel?

He must’ve felt your silence shift. He tightened his grip just slightly.

“I trust you,” he said. Just that. “Even if you don’t.”

⸻

Around you, the squad shifted.

Orders were given. Positions changed. Hange shouted something across the trees.

But Levi didn’t move.

His hand remained across your ears. His chest against your back. His breath at your neck.

And in the chaos of a perfect mission— he chose you.