With each passing day, her chair scooted closer to the head of the bed. Now she was at his shoulder. Her toes swished through the cream-colored bed skirt.
She was used to the routine now. Wake up, take his vitals, prep her supplies, clean him with alcohol until Jean showed up, change the bed sheets, empty the catheter, switch the bandages, then rinse and repeat.
Every time she switched the bandages, she checked his wounds for infection. They seemed healthy enough—raised and soft pink on the edges—and she was even able to remove a few of the smaller stitches on his arms.
But his body needed nourishment to heal and there was no way to get food in him. She managed to keep him hydrated with ice chips, but his ribs were becoming more pronounced. His toned biceps and thighs were withering. He'd lost about ten pounds in under a week, and that terrified her.
If he didn't wake up soon, all the true love in the world wouldn't sustain him.
But Jean was there. And she found that he liked to balance the scales—when she was pessimistic about his recovery, Jean would say something like, "Oh come on, he's faking it at this point. He just likes being babied." Then when she was more hopeful, he liked to say, "Don't go getting all heartbroken when this doctor stuff ends up being for nothing."
She didn't leave the dowdy guest room much except to relieve herself or change out his water, so it was good to have someone else there to keep her grounded. Even if that person happened to be Jean.
That morning marked six days.
While Karma waited for her assistant, she studied the now-familiar planes of Levi's face. What had started as routine checks for signs of consciousness, quickly digressed to studying his face for her own pleasure. He was still strikingly beautiful to her. She didn't care about the scar running from his forehead to his chin or the claw marks of the shrapnel. If anything, they served as evidence of his heroism—they made her love him more.
"You're still my Levi. No thunderspear can change that."
Up close, she could see the pores of his skin. His dark lashes cast shadow lines down his cheeks. She traced his lips over the bandages.
How much simpler this would all be if he were just waiting for true love's first kiss. If he just woke up and finally saw her as she saw him.
If he were just to wake up.
"Come on, Captain." The phrase had become her exhale. It felt like she said it with every breath.
What if he did wake up? She'd no longer have these private moments to hold his hand or admire his lashes. It would be back to business. He would be her strict captain again. The one who sent her off for medicinal training as compensation for her "mediocre battle skills." The one who trusted her to make his tea and collaborate on combat strategies. The one who always gave her one last nod before barging into battle.
She'd be sad to sacrifice the closest thing she had to physical intimacy with Captain Levi, but it would be worth it for him to finally open his eyes.
The door creaked open. Karma no longer felt the need to jump ten feet away from Levi and pretend like she hadn't been holding his hand or stroking his face, and she was grateful for that.
"I brought bagels." Jean laid a paper-wrapped lump on the bedside table and tore open his own. "I got you berry cream cheese."
"You remembered this time." Karma bit into the bagel. It was still warm. "What do I owe you for all of these food excursions anyway?" She licked a splotch of pink cream cheese from her thumb.
"You're good. Regiment reimburses it since we're on assignment."
"We should be more extravagant then."
Jean half-smiled.
"Some assignment," Karma said. "I feel like I'm doing nothing."
"You're nursing 'Humanity's Strongest Soldier' back to health so he can return to ass-kicking. That's not nothing."
"But is he even getting better? Is he ever gonna wake up?"
"Not with that attitude he won't."
"Jean, I'm serious." Karma stared down at her bagel, clenching her jaw to bay the thunderstorm behind her eyes.
"Karma, I promise there isn't anything more you could be doing for that bastard. He's completely spoiled. If he dies, it's his own damn fault."
"But I don't want him to die." The thunderclouds poured. Tears and sobs and snivels shook Karma's small frame. She hunkered into her chair, knees tucked to her chin.
"Hey, hey, shh it's alright." Jean knelt beside her. "Come here. You're okay." He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her in a little, sobbing ball. Karma cried into his shirt.
He didn't stop holding her until she sat up again, rubbing her cheeks dry with her sleeve.
"This sucks. I'm sorry you got stuck with me, Jean."
"Don't be sorry. I volunteered for this."
"But I thought Hange assigned you?"
"No. She asked for volunteers. I was the first one."
"Because you figured it'd be an easy gig?"
"Not at all—I know Captain Levi's a real piece of work. We still need to switch his bandages, by the way. And he could use a sponge bath. That whiskey is starting to reek."
"Is it? I don't smell anything."
"That's cause you're drowning in it. Trust me, it's bad. Let's get him cleaned up."
"I'll leave that to you. I made it pretty clear you were in charge of all things nudity-related."
"If Captain Levi wakes up and finds out a beautiful woman helped give him a bath, he won't complain."
"Fine. I feel weird about it."
"Don't tell me you haven't seen your boyfriend naked."
"He's not my boyfriend. And no, of course I haven't."
"You've had plenty of opportunities to sneak a peek."
"That's—You're disgusting. Why would I do that? He's my captain."
"I'm sure if the tables were turned Levi here would've copped a glance under the sheet."
"Maybe you would. Captain Levi wouldn't though."
"He's your captain, but he's still a man."
"Yeah, a good man with self-control."
"Psh, I don't care how good your self-control is. If you were naked under that sheet, it wouldn't hold. Trust me."
"Yes it would. Captain Levi doesn't like me like that."
"Then he's an idiot."
"Don't call him that. He's your captain too, you jerk."
Karma screeched her chair across the floor. She flung open paint-chipped cupboards to snatch rolls of towels and rags. She filled two buckets with plain and soapy water.
"Here." She dumped it all beside Jean and left, slamming her back against the closed door.
She could hear him dunking rags and twisting out the excess water.
Things had always been strange with Jean. Even as cadets there was this tension between them, heavy like a wet cloud.
So why did he volunteer? Why was he in the next room giving Captain Levi a sponge bath if he hated him so much? And why was she overanalyzing the thought process of a horse? There was nothing to pick apart—he probably just prefered nursing to the front lines. Who wouldn't?
Then he called for her. The guest room floor groaned beneath her bare feet. The stingy alcohol smell lingered, but it was mingled with sweet soap. He'd changed the sheets without her. Levi was freshly bandaged.
"Thanks, Jean."
"Sure."
Jean carried the sloshing buckets to the washroom. The water inside was brownish red.
Her chair was warm when she sat down and scooted inline with Levi's pillow. She laid her head on the edge of it and watched him sleep. She caught a whiff of laundry detergent and clean hair.
Jean was at the door frame. "Those bandages might need to be changed in a couple hours. His stitches were kind of leaky."
Karma nodded, ruffling her hair against the pillow. "Okay, thanks."
"And you need to finish your breakfast."
"Okay."
"You should probably shower too one of these days. And get some real sleep."
"I will."
His lip twitched. "You know, you can afford a break—your boyfriend's not going anywhere."
"He's not my boyfriend."
"But you wish he was."
Karma stared at the tips of Levi's lashes.
"You love him, don't you?" Jean said.
She watched Levi's chest rise and fall beneath the sheet.
"Kind of wasteful if you ask me," Jean said.
"Didn't ask."
"He might not even wake up, Karma."
"He will."
"Nothing's gonna change if he does. He's still an idiot. You'll still just be his soldier."
Her head raised from the pillow to look at him. "Why do you even care?"
"Because, Karma, I'm right here—awake and living and breathing and in love with you. You wouldn't be wasting anything with me."
Karma froze, tongue stiffened to a popsicle. What did he expect her to say? It felt like her heart was being smashed through the holes of a drain. How could he tell her she's wasting her love and then confess his own?
When she finally thawed enough to talk, her voice was small. "It's all a waste. In case you haven't noticed, it's the end of the world. None of this matters."
Jean knelt beside her, one hand on the back of her chair. "This is the only thing that matters." He jostled her chair on the word only.
Karma studied Jean's face. The smooth skin. Sharp, stubbled jaw. Narrow brown eyes. Determined curve to his mouth.
Something stirred in her heart. But she turned back to Levi and kept her teeth closed.
Jean scoffed through his nose and rose to his feet. "He still wins. Even bloody and unconscious."
He left, though Karma could feel his eyes until the door closed.
"Dammit." She dropped her head back beside Levi. If he never woke up, if those steel blue eyes never scrutinized her uniform for wrinkles or glanced at her from behind a stack of battle reports again, then maybe she could see herself with Jean.
But Jean didn't deserve to be second choice.
But was he second choice? The thought of him trading places with Levi was somehow equally painful. And the thought of him holding her or touching her neck gave her butterflies too. Did she love them both?
Karma flicked tears from her cheeks. "Ugh. This is so stupid. It doesn't matter."
But she didn't believe it. She knew Jean was right.