"I'm thinking of cutting my hair."

He stares at the long ginger strands on his pillow, carefully raking his fingers through them. Petra shivers, curling tighter into his sheets. Levi leans back against his headboard, retracting his hand from her hair. "Obviously. It's too long. It'll get caught in your wires or something."

Admittedly, he'd noticed that her hair was growing; it fell past her shoulders now, the longest he's ever seen it. He had been meaning to tell her that she needs to cut it or tie it up, but every time he was planning on telling her the damn wind seemed to pick up and whip it around her shoulders and face, and she would comb it back with one hand and made it look so sexy his words caught in his throat.

"Well, yeah," Petra says, turning over and staring up at him. "I kinda want to cut it shorter than usual. Like...Nanaba's length, maybe."

Well. He hadn't expected that.

He'd always liked Petra's hair. He's never said it to her, but she picked it up anyway because whenever they were alone, he always found an excuse to touch or mess with it. It was the colour that first caught his eye, red and orange and gold like the sun. Then the way it curled slightly when she washed it. Then the clean scent. Then the feel of it between his fingers. Then-

He could go on and on about her fucking hair. She'd always kept it at the same length, falling to her chin, so he never really gave it much thought.

"What do you think?" Petra asks, picking up on the silence that usually means he's thinking. He shrugs.

"Your choice."

"Levi," She rolls her eyes, propping herself up on her elbows. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want an opinion."

"Go ask Nifa or Nanaba then. Isn't that what girls do?"

Petra grins. "I don't know if you noticed, but us girls are far too busy taking down Titans and taking orders from a certain, constantly pissed off captain-"

"Go back to sleep." He shoves her back under the covers and she laughs. It's too loud and sudden in his quiet room, in the silent hallways of the barracks, and she slaps her hand over her mouth quick.

In an ideal world, she would let herself laugh freely around him because they would be allowed to be together and she wouldn't have to cut her hair because of giant pissy monsters. He shoves the thought away, like he always does whenever he lets himself stray to dangerous topics.

"Still," Petra says a moment later. "What do you think? If I cut it that short?"

"You'd look like a boy."

"I think you of all people know I don't look like a boy." She scoffs, sitting up to join him, tugging the sheets up over her bare body and leaning against his shoulder. Golden orange tresses spill over his collarbone. "It's more practical. Keeps it out of my eyes."

"Mmm." He knows she's fishing for his opinion on his preferred hairstyle on her and he won't give it to her. He's never liked the idea that she would change herself to fit his ideals.

What is his ideal, anyway? Simple. Red hair. Amber eyes. Pale skin. Hair that falls just to her chin because it's short enough to not get grabbed and she still looks feminine, perfect-

"Yes? Or no?"

"For fucks sake, Petra, go to sleep."

"Maybe I'll cut it like yours." She continues like she hasn't heard him. He jerks slightly under her and she giggles, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "That got you to listen."

"Look, just tie it up or cut it. I don't care how you do it. Make it safe."

With her hair long like this, her beautiful face shining in the sliver of moonlight that breaks through his curtain, he can almost imagine a world where she isn't a soldier, just his lover, tucked safe and sound behind the Walls. Her hair can grow as long as she likes, she doesn't have to spend all day training and sweating, and she doesn't have to creep through the hallways in the dark just to see him.

With her hair long like this, he sees a future that isn't real. The only future that awaits for them is their inevitable deaths at the hands and mouth of a Titan. His fucked up mind can only afford to see her hair as a liability, a stepping stone to her death. So he drags his hand through her hair one last time before they fall asleep, and when she joins him at breakfast later, it's back to its usual length. Good.

He tries not to mourn the loss of a glimpse into a life that is never going to happen.

a/n: pointless fluff. i'm currently in the middle (more like a quarter, a sixth) of writing a longer chapter more squad based from a review prompt but it's taking a bit longer to write so have this for now.