Chapter Text
The barracks were silent; the night had fallen, which only meant one thing: Levi remained awake all alone. He had suffered from insomnia for quite some time now. The others never noticed— or if they did, they knew better than to mention it. Sleep wasn’t something Levi had ever trusted in.
The room smelled faintly of oil from the lamps and the old wood of the beams above him. Outside, the wind dragged across the walls, restless as he was. He sat at the edge of his bunk, arms folded, eyes fixed on the floorboards.
A sound broke the silence—measured, steady footsteps in the hallway. Not a cadet. Not at this hour. Levi narrowed his eyes.
The door eased open with a soft creak, and a familiar silhouette filled the frame. Erwin Smith stood there, posture calm as ever, blue eyes shadowed in the dim light.
“You’re awake,” Erwin said quietly. It wasn’t a question.
Levi let out a low snort. “You say that like it’s a surprise.”
Erwin stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “I couldn’t sleep either.”
Levi studied him for a moment, then leaned back slightly, shoulders brushing the cold wall. “What’s your excuse this time? Another strategy you can’t get out of your head?”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Erwin’s mouth, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Something like that.”
Levi let out a tsk sound.
“I don’t think you even tried to sleep. You’ll end up like me if you keep this up.”
This only earned a chuckle from Erwin, who lifted one of his bushy eyebrows.
“Can’t have that happen, now. Can we?”
Levi shot him a flat look, but the corner of his mouth twitched against his will. He pulled his legs up on the bunk, resting his chin in his hand. “Wouldn’t hurt. Then you’d know what it’s like to stare at the walls all night.”
Erwin moved further into the room, his heavy boots muffled against the worn floorboards. He sat on the opposite bunk without asking, elbows resting on his knees. For a long moment, silence settled again, filled only by the creak of wood and the low whistle of wind outside.
“You’ve always been this way?” Erwin asked quietly, his voice carrying no judgment.
Levi shrugged. “Since long before you knew me. Can’t shut my head off.”
There was something in the way Erwin looked at him then — not pity, not quite. More like… understanding. It was the kind of gaze that lingered, that weighed on Levi until he finally had to glance away.
“Tch.” Levi clicked his tongue. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re worse off than I am. At least I try.”
Erwin’s laugh was soft, almost soundless. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Levi leaned back against the wall again, arms folded, trying to pretend the warmth in his chest wasn’t there. Nights like these were dangerous. Too quiet, too easy to forget the weight waiting for them outside those walls.
Silence stretched over the room. It wasn’t heavy, just… suiting. The kind of quiet that didn’t demand to be filled.
Levi lifted his cup, the steam curling against his face. He took a sip of the bitter tea before muttering, “Tsk. You look exhausted. Get your ass to sleep.”
Across from him, Erwin tilted his head, blue eyes glinting with amusement. “And leave you here to brood alone?”
Levi narrowed his eyes over the rim of his cup. “I don’t brood.”
A chuckle rumbled low in Erwin’s chest. He leaned back on his palms, posture easy in a way only he could manage after carrying the weight of an entire regiment. “You do. You’ve perfected it.”
Levi set his cup down with a soft clink. “Careful. I can still throw this at your head.”
“Noted,” Erwin said, that faint, infuriating smile tugging at his lips.
The room settled again, warm with lamplight, their silence now threaded with something unspoken. It was a rare thing — to have a moment without orders, without cadets demanding attention, without the looming shadow of Titans pressing down on their shoulders. Just the two of them, awake while the rest of the barracks slept.
The morning peeped over the horizon, letting an orange hue seep through the barracks windows. The night had slipped away without either of them noticing. Erwin and Levi still sat together at the mess hall table, shoulders angled just slightly toward one another.
Two untouched candles had burned low between them, the wax pooling at their bases. Both men nursed their tea, steam curling lazily upward. Levi had set aside the book he’d brought with him hours ago, pushed to the far corner of the table. Somewhere along the way, he had decided Erwin’s voice was worth listening to more than the pages.
Erwin was mid-sentence about some proposed supply routes when Levi cut him off with a quiet grunt.
“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “Talk about ration distribution all night, and you call me the insomniac.”
Erwin’s lips curved, just enough to be noticed. “At least you listened.”
Levi rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it. He lifted his cup again, fingers curling tight around the warmth.
The moment didn’t last.
The mess hall door burst open with a loud crash, and a familiar whirlwind stumbled inside. Papers stacked high to her chest, Hange nearly tripped over her own boots, rambling before the door had even swung shut.
“Erwin, Levi—you will not believe this, I’ve been calculating the spinal fluid ratios and if you just consider—”
She stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes darted from the mountain of notes in her arms to the two figures at the table.
Erwin and Levi both looked up in perfect silence, cups of tea in hand, seated side by side in the dim golden light of dawn.
For a second, Hange blinked. Then her lips pulled into a wide grin.
“…Wow. This looks kind of gay.”
Levi choked on his tea, coughing into his sleeve. “Oi—what the hell—”
Erwin only raised one of those thick brows, unruffled as ever. “Good morning to you, too, Hange.”
She dumped her stack of papers on the nearest bench with a loud thud, leaning forward on them with an exaggerated waggle of her eyebrows. “Morning? More like good morning. Look at you two. Having a secret sunrise date without me?”
Levi glared daggers at her. “We’re having tea.”
“Exactly,” Hange shot back, eyes glinting mischievously. “That’s what makes it romantic.”
Levi’s glare sharpened. He didn’t bother arguing this time. Instead, when he stood to refill his cup, he passed behind her and landed a sharp smack to the back of her head with the flat of his hand.
Hange yelped, stumbling forward over her papers. “Ow! Abuse! Witness, Erwin!”
Levi walked on without even looking at her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Should’ve shut your damn mouth sooner.”
Erwin chuckled low in his throat, shaking his head as he lifted his tea. “I think you earned that one, Hange.”
Hange spun around, rubbing the back of her head with a dramatic pout. “Et tu, Erwin? Some best friend you are.” Then her expression immediately flipped back into a grin. “You two are impossible. Completely hopeless. I love it.”
Levi froze mid-step, glaring over his shoulder. “…The hell did you just say?”
Hange straightened, lips curling into a smug grin. “French. Picked it up from Jean.”
Erwin arched a brow. “From Jean?”
“Yeah!” Hange beamed. “He says his mom used to say little phrases to him when he was a kid. Romantic stuff, like mon petit chou. Isn’t that cute?”
Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tch. First of all, I don’t care. Second, what kind of idiot passes on a dead language nobody speaks inside the Walls?”
Hange shrugged, completely unfazed. “The fun kind of idiot.”
Erwin’s lips twitched, trying and failing to hide his amusement.
Levi muttered, “You’re all insane,” and went back to pouring his tea.
Erwin shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Hange didn’t miss that either.
“Oooh,” she sing-songed, pointing a finger between them. “He smiles at you, Levi. That’s rare. You must be special.”
Levi froze mid-pour, jaw tightening. “Shut it, four-eyes.”
Erwin raised his cup, hiding the curve of his mouth behind the rim, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed him.
Hange gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Oh my god, you’re blushing.”
“I’m not—” Levi slammed the teapot down harder than necessary, glaring daggers at her. “One more word and I’ll drown you in this.”
Unfazed, Hange leaned across the table, grinning widely. “You two should really get married already. Save us all the tension.”
Erwin let out a quiet laugh then, deep and brief. Levi groaned, rubbing his temples like he regretted every decision that had led him here.
Conny entered the mess hall first, which was an unlucky coincidence since he was never the first to wake up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawning as he shuffled forward.
“Who should get married?” he asked groggily, his voice cracking.
The room froze.
Levi’s hand halted on his teacup, Erwin’s brows rose ever so slightly, and Hange’s grin stretched to dangerous proportions.
“Ohhhh, you’re just in time, Conny!” Hange chirped, slamming her palms on the table. “We were discussing the most scandalous pairing in the Scouts.”
Conny blinked, still half-asleep. “…Sasha and her bread?”
Erwin chuckled softly, Levi nearly choked on his tea, and Hange cackled like she’d just found her new favourite toy.
“No, no,” Hange said, waving her hand dramatically. “Think bigger. Much bigger.” She leaned close and stage-whispered, “Our dear Commander and his broody little Captain.”
Conny’s eyes went wide. “Wait. What?!”
Levi slammed his cup down with a sharp clink. “Out.”
Conny threw his hands up, backing toward the door. “I—I didn’t hear anything! Nothing at all!”
Erwin shook his head, trying—and failing—to suppress a smile. Hange slapped the table, practically wheezing with laughter.
From somewhere in the distance came the unmistakable hiss of stage-whispering:
“Captain Levi and the Commander?” Sasha’s voice.
“Section Commander said so!” Conny, far too loud for a whisper.
“We really shouldn’t mingle with their business…” Armin, nervous and hushed.
“…but what if it’s true?” Mina’s voice added, barely stifling a laugh.
Levi’s glare snapped toward the half-open door. His voice was low, dangerous.
“Springer’s getting cleaning duty. Maybe I’ll let him pick up the poop from the stables.”
A muffled “What?!” echoed from the hallway, followed by Sasha’s frantic shushing and Armin’s anxious pleading for everyone to “just go eat breakfast before we die.”
Erwin took a slow sip of his tea, entirely unbothered. “I think they already fear you enough, Levi.”
“Tch.” Levi crossed his arms. “Not nearly enough.”
Hange wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still snickering. “Oh, this is gold. By noon, half the regiment will believe you two are eloping.”
Levi muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a threat of violence, while Erwin only leaned back in his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Levi's steel grey eyes looked at Erwin, "what are you smirking for?"
Levi’s steel-grey eyes flicked toward him, sharp and suspicious.
“What are you smirking for?”
Erwin took his time with the answer, lifting his cup to his lips. He sipped, set it down, and finally met Levi’s gaze with calm certainty.
“Oh, I could be paired up worse.”
For a second, he went completetly quiet. Hange’s jaw dropped, and then she collapsed against the table with a wheezing laugh that echoed through the room.
Levi blinked, thrown just long enough for the tips of his ears to betray him with color.
“Tch. You’re insufferable.” He turned away, busying himself with his cup as though it were the most important thing in the world. Behind his cup, a small smile played which he couldn't even admit to himself, let alone them.
Erwin, unfazed, only leaned back further, the ghost of that smirk still tugging at his mouth.
“Insufferable and honest,” Hange sing-songed, fanning herself with one of her crumpled papers. “Oh my god, Levi, he actually flirted. Did we all just witness history?”
Levi’s hand twitched like he might throw the teapot at her head.