Eren was fire, and it reminded him of himself at the same age. It overwhelmed him, and, really, he didn't know if he should be indulgent or aggressive, because he wasn't sure about what he'd rather be feeling. One part of him couldn't help but like the teen, the other was more egotistic and wanted to slap the boy's face. Hard, possibly. Somehow, he had slowly come to hate Eren's fire, his impatience, his energy, his ignorance. It was only then that he realized he didn't want to, and he knew he should have stopped himself before anger took over him. Somehow, he also knew it wasn't too late, but a strange melancholy had crawled upon his chest. Levi felt the urge to mistreat him – he wanted to make him lose hope, so he would not get the chance to be the man the Corporal failed to be.

His back was once again against the cell's wall, looking not so patiently at Eren's tear-streaked face.

"I just don't understand yet. I... I apologize, Sir."

Truly, it was still a bit early for him to assimilate everything, but Eren started feeling guilty about all the nights Levi went down to find him. It was his duty to take care of him – but it had never been said he would have to act like a nanny. He felt the pink flowers of shame blooming all over his face. Levi's stare was darker than usual, his cheeks hollow.

"What if I were to say your mother wasn't dead and was waiting upstairs? Tell me, how would you react? It'd help you understand, I guess."

Pain and shock crushed the teen's chest with violence, sending him against the headboard of his so-called bed. The moment the words left his bitter mouth, Levi knew he wasn't even going to enjoy it. Actually, he felt hurt, and cursed himself for his acerbic spite. He did not look away from Eren's shattering face, though he really wanted to. He felt weak and low for doing this to the childish features. He was craving to say sorry, to break down and say he wasn't a monster, to stop the shoulders from shivering because they were already carrying so much weight. Instead, he just watched Eren's grief, unable to make the slightest move.

"Maybe you should go back to sleep, Corporal, Sir. You don't have to worry about me. With all due respect."

Eren was hiding his face, speaking through gritted teeth. If only he would find the strength to look at him, perhaps he could catch a glimpse of remorse in his silver eyes. Levi stood still, waiting for it to happen – though it did not. With a sigh the boy didn't hear, the Corporal left the room, and anger bursted out in his veins. He banged his fist on the wall, frowning, and made it back to his own bedroom.

Sleep was harder to find than usual. Levi fought against his sheets and his thoughts, struggling to be able to get some rest. One would think it easier for a soldier of his kind to shrug the feeling of remorse off. It certainly wasn't – well, not about his later behaviour anyway. It was aberrant how a simple brat had come to hold humanity's fate in his hands, and it started to worry him. Frankly, the Corporal was more worried he would not have a positive effect on Eren. Whenever the boy had looked at him, it had been with these eyes full of faith, admiration and respect – but now? Lately, he thought he'd seen disappointment piercing more and more through these green windows – because Levi was following orders, because Levi wasn't someone you could just get along with, because Levi's attitude was more one of an asshole than of a hero.

He did not want to lose that faith, admiration and respect. Having Eren by his side gave him a new reason to fight, and he had found himself revived – even though he was hiding it well. Hell, this boy really was hope.