Birdie (Levi x OC)

seventy-seven

I woke up before the sun; my hand instinctively going to Levi's side of the bed. Nothing but the soft and clean feeling of the sheets met my hands. There was no warmth; only the slight lingering scent of pine and the soap that he used.

I stayed there for a while, staring up at the ceiling while the world was still dark. The room and office felt almost eerie. One of Levi's jackets was folded neatly on the dresser, his nice pair of shoes set carefully under the bed. His desk was clear, the usual paperwork stacked neatly was put away. It felt like an omen, a sign that he didn't know when he was going to return to me.

I eventually forced myself to sit up, my movements sluggish and heavy. Every joint still ached. I caught my reflection in the small mirror above the basin on our dressser. The bandage on my temple was slightly frayed at the edges, and my eyes were rimmed with a dull, persistent exhaustion.

Keep your head on straight, he had said.

But as I poured cold water into the basin to wash my face, all I could think about was the forest. I imagined the giant trees, the shadows that never lifted, and the man with the golden beard and the polite smile sitting in the center of it all.

And Levi.

I dressed in my uniform with shaking fingers, the leather straps of my brace feeling constricting. I purposely avoided looking at his belongings, his side of the dresser. I couldn't afford to crumble yet.

When I finally stepped out into the hallway, the sound of my own boots against the floorboards felt unnervingly loud. I made my way toward the mess hall, expecting the usual morning bustle, but as I drew closer, the atmosphere changed.

The silence followed me there, too.

The younger scouts were huddled at the tables, but they weren't laughing or complaining about the rations. They were speaking in low, hurried whispers that died the moment I entered the room. Their eyes didn't meet mine with the usual respect or camaraderie. Instead, there was a flicker of something else. Suspicion? Defiance?

A soldier shot me a glare as I served myself breakfast. This was a soldier I had met before, someone I had personally helped situate in the barracks months ago when he arrived from the cadet corps. I raised my eyebrows, a concerned expression evident on my face, but he didn't ask for help this time. All he did in return was sneer before turning on his heels and walking toward a group of others.

They were huddled at a table in the center of the room, surrounding a familiar ginger-haired man.

Floch.

I hadn't seen much of Floch these past couple of years. He was professional and kind when we interacted, but he mostly kept to himself. Seeing him often served as a painful reminder of Shiganshina. Of the day my entire world changed.

Of Erwin.

After the battle, Levi had told me one evening while we were settling into bed that Floch had been the one to carry Erwin's broken body to the roof. Levi had sensed then that Floch resented him for the choice to save Armin instead. I had brushed it off at the time, thinking grief simply needed an outlet.

But seeing the way Floch looked at me right now, cold, calculating, and entirely devoid of his former professionalism, I wasn't so sure.

I felt myself inwardly scowling at the young man, yet I kept my face neutral as I approached the table.

"Is everything okay, Floch?" I asked. I held my breakfast tray with steady hands, my gaze level and unwavering.

"Fine, Mrs. Ackerman," he said.