Author's Note: Kind of cheesy, but I wrote it in class in under an hour (I really should have been paying attention haha) plus I got bubbly with feels.

Happy reading!

He was not, Mikasa suddenly realized, everything she had looked for in a potential partner when she was younger. The way he looked, the way he acted, the way he spoke, her list could go on and on, and she frowned in slight annoyance at her brain's decision to bring this up now of all times. But she sighed and lowered herself into a small chair as delicately as she could, and gave in to her mind's scrutiny. She reckoned she had enough time before they started calling for her.

First, the way he looked. The most easily deluded sense. When she had been a wide-eyed little girl, her mother would tell stories and fairy tales of their clan, always ending with a handsome and brave young man rescuing a kind woman, and she would listen in awe at the charming descriptors of this savior, her naïve mind immediately conjuring up a fantasy image of the most beautiful human being she could think of. He would be tall, she recalled, with honey blond hair a little darker than her father's, and her mouth quirked at the memory. His blue eyes would sparkle and twinkle every time he looked at her, and would never narrow and squint in frustration, but instead go wide with encouragement and optimism. And his body would be strong, strong enough to sweep her off her feet, yet able to hold their children so sensitively and carefully.

Second, the way he talked and acted. Proud and noble, he would hold his head high with dignity but not arrogance, satisfaction but not self-importance, and his words would be kind and sweet and never harsh, but cautionary if needed. He would whisper beautiful fragments of heaven in her ear when they hugged, and his voice would be like dark, smooth honey that dripped with love and warmth. Mikasa allowed herself a small chuckle at the irony, comparing this fictional young man to the flesh and bone she had managed to fall into.

He was not any of these things. He was dark and broody, coarse and severe, rough and violent; certainly none of the traits parents encouraged their daughters to admire in a suitor, even if he was a most desirable man. And she supposed her parents would have agreed. Safe is where he should keep you. And yet this man drags your life into jeopardy as often as he replaces the blades of his swords. Why do you let him, Mikasa? Her father's voice echoed indignantly in her head, and she bit back a few stray tears. Would he have been disappointed in her?

I'm sorry Daddy, I…I can't help but love him. I'm sorry.

Mikasa shifted in the small chair, wringing her bare hands in slight guilt. Yes. No. No? She knew her parents would have supported her, stood by her, smiled and cheered for her, even though they wouldn't have approved of her choice. Because she knew they loved her unconditionally and wanted to see her content and lively on this day instead of dreary and morose. You life is what you make it, and no one else.

She heard Eren frantically call her name from somewhere outside her door, and she sighed in contentment, wishing her parents could see her on this day, the beginning of a new life. Straightening up carefully so she wouldn't disturb the elegant dress, Mikasa walked as gracefully as she could manage to one end of a long aisle where Eren waited for her, dressed in his very best, and he proffered his arm to her, whispering a verse of congratulations.

For the last time, she wondered if she was making the right choice, giving herself wholeheartedly to the man who waited for her at the other end of aisle, his mouth trying not to twitch into a full grin, belying his uncharacteristic bliss.

She cracked her mouth into a small giggle, all memory of that fantasy man from her childhood and innocent years dashed to the wind.

Levi was nothing she had wanted. But he was everything she needed.