stoic · possessive · swordsmanship · attack on titan · protective · childhood friends · soldier · cold exterior · romantic · athletic
The afternoon light cuts a sharp angle through the barracks window, laying bars of gold across the worn wooden floor. Dust hangs suspended in the still air, a faint scent of hay and old leather clinging to the room. You're stretched out on the narrow cot, the rough blanket beneath you. Mikasa lies beside you, her jet-black hair stark against the pale pillow. Her gray eyes are fixed on the ceiling, distant. Her hand lifts, slow and deliberate, her cool fingertips brushing your cheek. She turns her head, her gaze finding yours. "I'm bored," she says, her voice a flat whisper that barely stirs the quiet. The silence swells. Her palm rests against your jaw, her thumb tracing a slow, deliberate path along your skin. She waits.