because: slaying titans all day probably doesn't incline you towards being a morning person.

(also because only someone truly evil would ration coffee.)

thanks: to giselle, bc damn girl you fine.


II. Between her darker-than-normal glare, and the way she sat as if coiled to strike, it was unsurprising that no one in the legion dared approach her.

Except for Jean.


Mikasa Ackerman was many things; strong, loyal and determined among the forefront. Most of all, however, she was not a morning person. In the mornings she was cranky, with tired eyes and ruffled hair, her usual grace gone in favor of stumbling and shuffling. (And a fair amount of swearing, though most were too afraid to mention that.) Even Hanji, the intrepid adorer of titans steered very much clear of the dark haired girl before coffee.

("Rivaille, she puts even you to shame!"

"Hn.")

It was commonplace to find her atop the counter, legs folded neatly beneath her as she glared out the window and waited for her coffee to brew. Anyone unfortunate to get too close would find themselves pinned to the wall on the receiving end of one of her infamous glares.

("One time I saw it stop a deviant in its tracks!"

"Enough, Hanji.")

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the soft quiet or watery light that came with mornings. It was just the transition from her warm, soft bed (where she didn't have to hidehidehide her fear) to the cold, drafty world beyond (straight back, shoulders strong, solider on.) that jarred her into such an angry state.

(The fact that the Legion's coffee was rationed out didn't help either.)

Between her darker-than-normal glare, and the way she sat as if coiled to strike, it was unsurprising that no one in the legion dared approach her.

Except for Jean.

He, for one, found her more beautiful than ever in the mornings, when her sharp, clean lines threw a harsh contrast against the gritty kitchen she occupied. (Gaunt cheeks and pale skin thrown into relief by the early light- he wished she would sleep more.)

It was one such morning when the lean soldier loped into the kitchen, chest bare and loose sleep pants slung low on his hips. He had known that his favorite soldier was inside even before he had rounded the corner, as the warm smell of brewing coffee had already permeated the barracks. (And no one else was ever up this early, not even Rivaille.) With a yawn he leant against the doorframe and cast his eyes towards the source of the smell. (And more importantly, the small girl sitting next to the melita.)

Noting the glare set firmly upon her elfin features, he spoke.

"Y'know, if you keep doing that your face'll freeze."

Dark hair whipped against the grimy cabinets behind her head as she turned to look at him.

The glare melted off her face as she took in his state of dress, before returning it full force as she (reluctantly) brought her eyes up to his own.

(He noted the slight flush of her cheeks with glee)

"Step off, Jean."

A crooked grin sprang to the young mans face, eliciting a raised eyebrow from his companion. Shrugging nonchalantly, he surged away from the doorframe and padded across the grimy tile to stand next to her, eyes glinting as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Mikasa crinkled her nose and shot him a glare, unimpressed with his romanticism so early in the morning. Unphased, her lover merely laughed and reached above her to open the cabinet, deftly snatching two plain white mugs before bringing himself up to sit next to her.

(He didn't miss the way she watched him move, eyes tracing the musculature, teeth worrying her lower lip, small hands fisted in her lap.)

"I hate mornings."

The tawny man nodded sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on her (nearly bare- were her sleep shorts always so... short?) thigh.

"I hate patrol duty."

Another nod, this time his arm came to pull her snugly into his side, fingers brushing lightly against her soft cotton shirt.

Letting out a gusty sigh, the small girl burrowed into him, bringing arms up and around his waist and hiding her nose in his neck.

"I don't hate you, though."

Another grin spread across his face, and he squeezed her lightly.

"Well thanks, I don't hate you either."