Mikasa examines the remnants of her long-cold tea so intensely she is sure that the liquid would burst out steaming again. It has been, up to this moment, a very long night.
"Well?" Levi asks from across the table, his fingers impatiently drumming on the rim of his empty cup.
"What you're saying is very appealing" she admits slowly. "But I have some reservations."
"And those are?" Levi inquires with a raised eyebrow.
"For one thing," she says, leaning towards him. "You're abrasive and I don't forgive easily."
"That's true." he admits, leaning forward in response.
"And another," Mikasa continues. "You're levelheaded to the point of being robotic, while I tend to be, shall we say, very passionate, when it comes to the people I care about."
Levi narrows his eyes and shifts an inch forward. "A minor point, but go on."
Mikasa leans forward again, whispering conspiratorially. "We both have a propensity towards violence."
"But not against each other."
"Especially against each other."
"Only during training," he counters.
"True," she says, raising her hands to concede the point. "But can you imagine, taking two of the most volatile people in the history of the Survey Corps, both with the physical capacity to do severe damage, and putting them together?" She pauses to tuck her chin in her scarf. "There is no way this will end well."
Levi looks at her as he considers what she had just said. He rolls his eyes with a small huff.
"What was that?" She frowns and angles her head towards him to hear .
"I said," he draws out the syllables as he shifts closer. "Your argument has a major flaw, brat."
"And what is that?" Mikasa asks, her face inches away from him.
Levi quickly closes the distance between them and brushes his lips tenderly against hers. "You're making the erroneous assumption it will end at all."