Thud.

Celine winced. She took a shuddering breath, adjusting her grip on the handle of her crutch.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Celine raised her hand. It stilled as she stared at the healing scabs along her knuckles. She considered turning away from the door and going back down the narrow hallway. The stairs would be more of a pain going down than up, but otherwise she could leave unhindered. Where she would go from there was the question.

The door opened before Celine had come to a decision. Her mouth stretched into a thin line as Levi regarded her with a slow blink. He was dressed in a loose, long-sleeve gray shirt and brown slacks. It was a familiar outfit he wore the majority of the time he was off duty back at the captains' cabin. Celine immediately felt overdressed.

"You came," Levi said, revealing little of his thoughts on the matter.

"I was invited," Celine said.

Levi hummed, taking a step back. His eyes followed Celine as she slowly entered his apartment.

The white button-up shirt from earlier that day remained, but Celine had swapped her military skirt for one of a deep blue material that nearly touched the floor. Two braids along the back of her head came together at her nape to form a ponytail secured by a red ribbon. The hair framing her face brushed against the bandage on her cheek when she looked back to Levi.

"How did you know I was at the door?" Celine asked.

"Anyone who isn't deaf could hear your crutch," Levi said, looking away to close the latch. The reaction this elicited from Celine was gone from her face by the time he turned around.

"Your home's about as clean as I was expecting," Celine said, attempting to move his attention elsewhere. The tension left her shoulders as Levi looked away and she followed his gaze around the apartment.

Celine noted the space was a similar layout to Hange's home, although the lack of clutter made it appear much larger. Two armchairs in a dark green material sat before a dormant fireplace. At the back of the room near the window was an almost empty bookshelf, a bureau, and a table with two chairs. The kitchen was located by the door, the glass panels on the cabinets showcasing neat stacks of pots and tableware. Wooden countertops had been oiled down and were completely spotless.

"Did you just move in here?" Celine asked.

"No," Levi said, entering the kitchen. "I've had this apartment for five years."

"Wow," Celine said. She stepped forward to look down the hallway around the corner from the fireplace. "I never imagined your home would be so boring."

"You're used to seeing the disorderly mess Hange tries to pass as a residence," Levi said, sounding unperturbed. "Anything would look sterile by comparison." He regarded Celine from the corner of his eye. "I put water on earlier for tea – you can go sit by the window."

"Ah!"

Celine made her way into the kitchen before setting her crutch aside and leaning against the counter. She rooted through the contents of the messanger bag around her shoulders. It didn't take her long to find the object she was looking for; a sage green pouch tied with twine. She lifted the pouch and offered it to Levi, her companion taking a moment to study the object before accepting it with some hesitation.

"This is a lavender and mint tea blend from a friend of my father's," Celine said. "Sorry it isn't much – the shops were closed by the time I changed and finally found the right coach driver."

Levi regarded the bag in his palm as if it were a foreign object. "Why give me this?"

"Because you invited me to your home," Celine said.

This didn't appear to clear anything up as a line formed between Levi's brows. "You do this whenever you visit someone?"

Celine was surprised he didn't immediately see that as obvious. "Of course."

The look Levi leveled Celine with gave her the impression he was expecting some sort of trap. She leaned away with a frown.

"I can … take it back," Celine said, unsure of what else to say.

Levi's features relaxed. He turned toward the kettle on the stove. "We'll have this. Sit down – you're in the way of the cabinets."

The urge to make a retort bubbled up before dying in Celine's throat. It was like a clamp had been installed over her heart; everything she had to give had seeped from her the day she'd woken up and was flooded with too many emotions to handle.

She'd screamed and cried into Marco's jacket that day until her body had begun to dry heave in an attempt to empty her out completely. It had worked, in a sense; there wasn't anything left for Celine to cry, yell, or laugh over. The stillness saturating every part of her generally left her content until moments like this. Levi didn't appear to be trying to get a rise out of her like he had earlier in the afternoon, yet there was something inherent in the way he spoke which caused a stirring in her chest that needed to be pressed down. It had already been decided before she arrived that she would remain in control.

Celine dropped her eyes and picked up her crutch to cross the room to the small table by the window. She caught a glimpse of Levi watching her as she took a seat, probably waiting to see if she was really going to remain silent. It was simple to pretend that rearranging the folds in her skirt warranted enough attention for Celine to keep her eyes averted before he turned away.

A quick glance at the back of Levi's head confirmed he'd committed to the task of preparing tea. Celine's posture relaxed and she looked away.

The view from Levi's second-story apartment was better than expected. The location wasn't the most desirable – only a few blocks from the outer wall along the south-western side. Generally the housing near the walls, especially outside Sina, were occupied by low-income residents who took advantage of the general population's desire to look elsewhere. Up until the recent influx of Military Police members in the area, Trost especially had issues with theft, assault, and a handful of local gangs who specialized in the illegal sale of military equipment. Most citizens avoided residing in the first ten or so blocks near the wall if they could help it.

This street, however, appeared peaceful. Two children sat on a large crate outside a general store, throwing a stick for a dog which appeared cared for. A group of women chatted and laughed among themselves as they strung up laundry on the roof of the building across the way. Flowerbeds and herb gardens lined the windows of more than a few buildings along the block. The view of the street and the surrounding area was unobstructed, including the large boulder which took the place of Wall Rose's gate in the distance. Celine had a feeling this vantage point likely played a large role in Levi choosing the apartment in the first place.

"You're quiet," Levi said.

"I have nothing to say," Celine said. Her elbow was on the table, her chin in her hand as she continued to gaze out the window.

"This is the first time today I've seen a genuine look on your face," Levi said. He placed a cup and saucer before Celine, settling into the seat across from her with his own tea.

Celine looked away from the window. "That's not true. I was genuinely shocked when you invited me here."

A shadow passed over Levi's features. "I didn't expect you to come."

"Oh?" Celine said. She couldn't help but smirk. "Am I ruining what was supposed to be a peaceful night at home by calling your bluff?"

Levi gripped his cup around the rim, taking a sip of tea. "In part."

Celine caught a glimpse of her reflection in her own tea. Her smile fell away. Ripples distorted the image as she raised her cup. "Within Sina, it's considered very poor manners to decline a dinner invitation without proper cause. You didn't account for my ingrained nature of being a sophisticated lady."

For a moment Celine thought Levi might be choking. She suddenly realized the odd noise he had made into his tea was a laugh. This being the first time Celine had witnessed such an event took away some of the sting from it happening at her own expense. She chose not to comment on it as she blew over her tea.

"The carriage is waiting at the end of the block, so I can leave anytime," Celine said, pausing to take a sip of tea. "I can be out of your hair after finishing this cup – by the looks of it, there isn't a speck of food to be had, anyway."

Levi appeared insulted by the remark. "The window here doesn't have a ledge. I placed the vegetable tart I made earlier on the windowsill of my bedroom to cool. It'll be ready to eat soon."

Celine wondered if she may have misheard. "Vegetable tart? You know how to make something like that?"

If Levi was flattered by Celine's impressed tone, he didn't show it. "It isn't difficult."

"To you, maybe," Celine said, helping herself to more tea. "Goodness … Between that and the cleaning, you'd be a perfect homemaker."

"Living a life so free of burden is a concept I can't imagine," Levi said.

Celine consented to this with a nod. "Keeping up a household could be harder than you think, you know. Although I agree with your sentiment. I've been ignoring encouragement from my father to consider the lifestyle myself."

A soft clink accompanied Levi's tea returning to its saucer. He leaned back in his seat, swinging an arm over the backrest. "Bearing in mind what you tried to pass for food during our mission, I wouldn't say being a homemaker is one of your strengths."

A weak smile grew on Celine's face as she looked out the window. "He's simply looking out for me. A lot of people in the military retire when they suffer an injury like mine."

The smile on her face did little to counter the uncomfortable feeling squirming in her chest.

"You've already proved you're not like a lot of people," Levi said. "Most wouldn't have survived a direct fight with Kenny."

The name was like hearing a twig snap in a silent forest. There was something about the way the word passed through Levi's lips which was inherently different than the way anyone else spoke it. There was disgust. There was animosity. But there was also a hint of something similar to what Celine had been struggling to silence since the moment she'd regained consciousness.

Celine kept her gaze fixed on the window. "Can I tell you something I didn't put in the incident report?"

"Do what you want," Levi said. He shifted his position, crossing one leg over the other. The way he regarded her implied that he was generally unconcerned with whatever she was about to say. Everyone else had regarded Celine with expressions twisted in pity whenever the subject of Kenny had been broached. For the first time Celine felt brave enough to voice something she'd been struggling with all her might to hold back. Her fingers trembled as she tightened her grip on her cup.

"He was my friend."

Levi's eyes widened. He didn't speak for a moment as Celine held his stare.

"You can't be serious," Levi said. "Are you really talking about Kenny?"

Levi appeared horrified, but for whatever reason, Celine had the sense he understood. It was a concept she'd discarded as something she would ever be able to experience.

She brought her hand to her chest, clutching the material of her dress shirt. The clamp over her heart snapped open like a gas tank under too much pressure.

"I am," Celine said. For a change there was something behind the weak smile growing on her face. "His outlook was fascinating. Everything was a joke – even when no one else was laughing. He was so staunchly different to everyone I knew. The stories he would tell about his time in the Underground made it seem like a dark and twisted place out of a fairytale. And we worked well together; he appreciated my input and valued me as a technician. I thought he saw me for who I was instead of being a shadow of my mother. I was wrong about that."

The bandage on Celine's cheek began to peel away from the tears. She gently pulled it from her face, her fingers lingering on the thin, curved scab stretching from her temple to the corner of her mouth. That morning she'd dressed the wound as quickly as possible. Looking at it never failed to turn her stomach. It was a hideous reminder of how she was a fool; how she'd put her trust in the wrong person.

How she'd pushed down every emotion she had so she could continue to deny that she missed someone who she should feel nothing but hate for.

"I wish I wouldn't do that," Celine said, chuckling despite herself. She roughly wiped her eyes with her wrists. "That rotten bastard doesn't deserve to have anyone shedding a tear for him; me especially."

"You're right," Levi said. He rose from the table, walking over to a small bureau. A handkerchief from atop a stack in the top drawer was produced and held out to Celine. She'd been expecting more pushback from her confession, but Levi's gaze had a hint of something soft behind it she hadn't witnessed before.

"I don't feel an ounce of remorse for cutting that shit-stain's head off," Levi said as Celine accepted the handkerchief. "Your tears make me think I should have some shame for what I did."

Celine shook her head as she wiped her face. "Don't. That son of a bitch is burning in Hell like he deserves. There's only one thing about the time I spent with him I'll allow myself to remember fondly."

Celine placed the handkerchief in her lap. She formed a series of gestures with her fingers in a practiced manner. The way Levi's face suddenly twisted in disgust was a surprise like a ray of sunlight bursting through heavy clouds.

"Oh, so you know what that one means," Celine said, doing little to hide her delight. "I forgot you grew up in the Underground. I suppose my silent insults to people behind their backs won't go completely unnoticed, after all."

Levi was still watching her as if she'd been caught licking the floor. "I can't believe he taught you that," he said. "You haven't seen the waste pits in the Underground, so you don't even know how repulsive that comment is."

Celine wiped the last of her tears away. The crinkle to Levi's nose marking his revulsion caused her to lean forward in an excited fashion. "Can you tell me what this one means? I never got an explanation; he'd only laugh."

She moved her hands in a fluid motion to make a long series of gestures; it'd taken her nearly a week to get it right the first time around. Kenny had laughed so hard he cried. The memory still stung like a knife to the chest, but Celine was now open to the pain.

Celine froze as her wrist was snatched in Levi's tight grip.

"Don't ever make that sign to anyone else," Levi said, his tone stern. "Especially another man."

Celine's eyes grew wide as she held Levi's stare. The twitch to the corner of his mouth implied whatever message she'd been sending made him extremely uncomfortable. She snorted, dipping her head in laughter. Her wrist was tossed aside with a sigh.

"W-wait!" Celine said, fighting to get the words out. "Come back! I'm sorry! Your face was just too much!"

Levi disappeared down the hall. For a moment Celine wondered if it was his way of telling her to leave … before he suddenly returned with a tart in hand. He sized Celine up with a brief glance as he placed the tart on the table and turned toward the kitchen. There was a pause to his step.

"You should know something."

Celine used the handkerchief in hand to dry the last of her tears. She found it far more pleasant drying tears of amusement for a change. She met Levi's stern expression with a smile. "What? Is the tart not very good?"

"Shut up," Levi said, unamused. "It'll probably come up at some point, so I'd rather you hear this from me: Kenny was the man I had told you about before; the one who raised me for some years before disappearing."

All mirth drained from Celine. Her hands clenched in her lap. "Are you alright?"

Levi studied her face for a moment. He turned away. "If he were still here it would mean you wouldn't be. I can't argue with that outcome."

Celine smiled, watching Levi collect plates and silverware from the kitchen.

"So you like me better than a serial killer?" Celine said, hitting Levi with a grin as he returned. "That's certainly an improvement."

Levi didn't respond as he made work of cutting through the tart. Celine feared she may have overstepped.

"Really, though," she said, voice soft. "It's alright if you're sad."

There was a pause to Levi's work. He quickly recovered, placing slices of tart on two plates before pulling out his chair.

"Hange also said that to me," Levi said. He took a seat with a low grunt. "You two are greatly overestimating how much of a shit I gave for his well being. There was a reason I decided to kill Kenny instead of taking him prisoner. It was a selfish decision and probably not the best one, but I stand by it."

Levi looked out the window. His face became bathed in the orange light of the setting sun as he grew pensive. "The most I can say is that killing Kenny felt odd," he said, keeping his gaze on the window. "In my eyes he'd been untouchable, like some monster in a storybook that always escapes by dissolving into the shadows. It turned out he bled just like everyone else."

Celine's move to speak was cut off as Levi slid a fork wrapped in a napkin over the table.

"Eat before it goes cold," he said.

It was an obvious deflection that Celine couldn't blame him for. She got herself situated and took a bite of the tart.

"It's good," Celine said.

"I'm aware."

The corner of Celine's mouth tilted up as she watched Levi join her in the meal. "Is cooking your hobby? I suppose the food at the cabin was above average when you were the one preparing it."

"I've been cooking for a long time, so I'm decent at it," Levi said. He lifted a napkin to his face to pat away any crumbs. "I wouldn't say I enjoy it."

Celine put her elbow on the table, leaning her head in her hand. "So, what do you do in your free time? I've never seen you doing anything but paperwork or helping me learn how to use ODM gear."

"I expect I do the same as most people," Levi said. He reached out to put another slice of tart on Celine's mostly empty plate. "I run through drills, clean, and keep my affairs in order. I don't have time for much besides that."

A line appeared between Celine's brows. "No hobbies or anything? What do you do when you want to relax?"

"I sleep," Levi said. "Eat before the crust gets soggy."

Celine looked Levi up and down before sitting up straight. She picked up her fork, taking a few bites as Levi regarded her in a dour manner.

"I assume your hobby is fixing things," Levi said after a moment. "You performed repairs outside the basic maintenance parameters on all the cabins while we were there."

"Sort of," Celine said, gesturing with her fork. "I prefer to have something to do with my hands while I think. Recently I've picked up embroidery again. I used to do it years ago before I joined the military, but I fell out of practice."

The bag near Celine's foot was rummaged through for a moment before she produced a piece of tan cloth stretched within a wooden hoop. The design depicted a pair of golden raspberries surrounded by a border of thorny vines.

"I'm a lot more adept at doing lettering," Celine said. "I'm not very good at layering the different shades of thread just yet. I want to improve before taking on a larger project. Marco's mother was working on a stunning bouquet of pansies when she died; I'd like to finish it if I can."

Celine ran a thumb over the design, her gaze growing distant. "I'm grateful to you, you know. I can miss Rosie with every pass of the needle and not feel like I don't have the right."

The statement caused Levi to frown. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"What you said to me back then in the graveyard … And even our conversation just now … It helped. I can work on moving forward. I'm slow, but I'm moving."

Levi reached for his tea. There was a pause as his hand hovered over the rim. He adjusted his grip to the side of the cup, taking a sip. "Being stationary doesn't suit you."

"No, it doesn't," Celine said. There was a brief tremor to her hand which was quickly glossed over as she changed the subject. "I've noticed you studying the design. Would you like to try? You're good at sewing – I think you might like it."

The look Levi hit Celine with would make anyone think he was less than convinced by both the assurance and the fake smile behind it. "I was only noting its similarity to the patches we wear."

"You have a good eye," Celine said, her smile shifting to something more genuine. "My style of embroidery is based off of Rosie's, and she was the one who redesigned the military emblem patches around twenty years ago. Not many people would notice."

"I've spent a lot of time studying them," Levi said. His eyes drifted across the room. "The ones for the Scout regiment, especially."

"Everyone thinks that's the simplest one, but it's really quite complex with the color overlays," Celine said with a nod. "It's the one the machines have the most trouble with aligning properly, so many of them have slight imperfections that make them unique. My father hates that aspect, but I sort of like it."

"So do I."

Their gaze held for a moment. Nothing about the situation had changed, yet for some reason the way Levi was regarding her caused heat to rise up Celine's face. She dropped her attention to the object in her hands. "So, would you like to learn?"

Levi studied Celine before answering. "What practical use would it be to me?"

"The point of a hobby is it doesn't have to be practical," Celine said. "Although … here. Do you mind if I use this handkerchief you lent me earlier?"

Celine held up a hand to cut Levi off before he could protest. "You'll like it, I promise! You have my word, I'll replace it if you don't."

Levi met her hopeful smile with a heavy level of doubt. "Fine," he said, crossing his arms as he sat back in his seat. "You're going to do what you want, anyway."

"You know me well," Celine said.

A needle, deep blue thread, and a small pair of scissors were produced from the bag. Celine's design within the wooden hoop was swapped out for the handkerchief, the material stretched tight. A moment later Celine's hand moved in a steady rhythm as the blue thread intertwined with the material.

"I like stitching the stylized 'L's' – I get to do two loops," Celine said. She leaned to the side so Levi could get a better look as she worked. "See? It's simple. You could do this no problem. I'm already almost done with the first initial."

Celine's hand stilled. She regarded Levi with a frown. "Why is it I don't know your surname?"

"As much as I'd like to say it's because you're unobservant," Levi said. "The real reason is because I don't have one." He frowned as if he could tell where Celine's line of thought went to. "Don't say you're sorry; it's never bothered me."

It was now Celine's turn to be skeptical. She returned to her work with a hum. "Interesting. Perhaps someone with a rather infamous reputation will give you her surname someday."

The thread was tied off a moment later. Celine handed the handkerchief over with a flourish. "And here's your practicality – this handkerchief is your property, and no one can argue otherwise."

Levi ran a thumb over the small 'L' in the corner of the handkerchief with a thoughtful hum. "I suppose I can see the utility, although I doubt my craftsmanship will be this proficient."

"That's why you practice," Celine said. She placed the wooden hoop on the table alongside a needle and a few small spools of thread. "They sell books with patterns at the general store. Or you can try making your own designs and see how it goes. You can have this for a start; I have plenty more at home."

Celine caught movement in the corner of her eye. A figure carrying a long pole was working their way down the road below, lighting each streetlamp in turn. It felt as if it'd gone dark outside in no time at all. She turned away from the window to regard the crutch at her side with a sinking feeling.

"I should head out," Celine said.

"I can make more tea."

Eyebrows rose as Celine looked back at Levi. Little revealed his thoughts as he tucked the handkerchief away in his pocket and waited patiently for a reply.

"I can't," Celine said. She looked away, bunching the material of her skirt in her lap. "I have to …"

Celine reluctantly picked up her crutch. She stood, wobbling slightly as she positioned the crutch under her arm. It had been nice sitting with Levi – she'd almost felt normal.

"I have to change my bandages," Celine said, voice soft. "Thank you for–"

"I'll help you."

Levi didn't appear perturbed as Celine regarded him like he'd lost his mind. He was already rolling up his sleeves as he rose from the table.

"I assume they want you to disinfect and apply a salve over the stitches when you change your dressing," he said. "I already have all the materials here – go sit by the fireplace where I can position a lantern to get better lighting."

Even with the crutch, Celine felt like she was on the verge of falling over. "That's fine!" she said, calling after Levi as he disappeared into the hallway. "Really! I can do it myself!"

"If you want something to do, make yourself useful and clear the table," Levi's voice drifted from the hall.

Celine made an expression like she'd bitten into a lemon.

"I'm your guest," Celine mumbled. She huffed, glaring at the table for a moment before collecting as many dishes as she could balance in one hand. "Bossing me around like this … I should drop everything out of spite."

Despite Celine's claim, the dishes were being set down in the kitchen when Levi returned carrying a small basin. A pair of light blue gloves and a bandana over his hair now accompanied his wardrobe.

"Look," Celine said, making her way toward the door. "I really appreciate the offer, but I would prefer to change the dressing myself. Thank you for having m–"

"Knowing how you clean, you're going to give yourself an infection," Levi said. "Sit down."

Celine bristled. "Are you implying I can't practice personal hygiene?" she asked, an edge to her tone. "And I know how to clean; your standards are just ridiculous."

Levi's eyes narrowed in thought. "I'll have a better idea of the state of your injury if I change your dressing. You've given me the impression you might be fit to return to duty; this will help solidify my decision."

A low rumble in her throat accompanied Celine's frustration. She held Levi's passive expression as her mind tumbled with inner conflict. A long groan finally escaped her lips, her crutch coming down in a heavy fashion as she trudged over to an armchair near the fireplace.

"Don't act like a spoiled brat," Levi said. "I'm going to heat some water – remove your soiled dressing in the meantime."

"Yes, Captain ," Celine spat. She sat in a heavy fashion, leaning her crutch against the opposite armchair. Her lap was regarded with a solemn expression for a moment before she sighed and lifted her skirt to her knee.

"This is indecent," Celine said, peeling the gauze away. "You'll have to marry me after this for sullying my innocence."

"There isn't a thing about you anyone would call innocent," Levi said.

A basin of steaming water was placed before the armchair. There was a whiff of something inherently sterile in the air. Memories of the infirmary caused Celine's shoulders to tense.

The bandages fell away. Celine's calf had been cut off about halfway down her tibia; a series of stitches snaked toward her knee like vines crawling up a fence. Saving as much of her leg as possible meant peeling back skin and muscle to pick out pieces of shrapnel. The swollen pink and purple lines marked with thick stitches turned Celine's stomach.

"This isn't as bad as I was expecting," Levi said. He knelt before Celine and dipped a cloth in the water basin, patting the material over the stitches in a fashion which implied he was familiar with the task. "The doctors ensured fitting you for a prosthetic shouldn't be overly difficult."

"What does it matter?"

Celine wouldn't meet Levi's gaze. She could feel an embarrassed flush rising up her face as she fought back the tremble to her lip.

"I'm never going to be assigned another field mission," Celine said. "No one wants to risk bringing along a soldier who can't pull their weight if there's trouble. I'll just sit at a desk while others get to witness my inventions in action. My days will be filled with pretending to be happy that I still have even a semblance of use."

Celine closed her eyes, fighting back the tightness growing in her throat. "And every night … I'll look in the mirror after my bath … and wonder if the day will ever come where I can regard myself and see something I don't find gruesome."

Water sloshed as Levi rewet the cloth. He continued to pat the soft material along Celine's skin in a gentle fashion.

"Scars shouldn't be viewed as a detraction of beauty," Levi said.

Celine slowly opened her eyes. She watched Levi as he continued to clean the wound as if it were second nature.

"Scars are a reflection of the path you've chosen up to this point," Levi said, keeping his attention on his task. "What I see is a story of how you looked death in the eye and fought back even when you were at a disadvantage. If you were an animal caught in a trap, you would've chewed your own leg off if it meant taking your revenge against the bastard who did this to you. I would much rather look at something like this than the fake smiles you were wearing earlier."

Celine bunched the material of her skirt in her hands. "Not everyone will share your sentiment."

"You didn't give a shit concerning your peers' perceptions of you before," Levi said. "Stop pretending like you give a shit now; it's aggravating."

Nothing more passed from Celine's lips. She kept her eyes averted as Levi applied the salve and began wrapping up the wound. Their gaze met briefly when Levi was finished. Any form of thanks drained away; Levi's attention immediately shifted elsewhere as he appeared intent on picking up supplies. The hint was taken, Celine collecting her bag before slowly making her way to the other side of the apartment.

Levi was washing the salve from his hands in the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder, sharing a nod in parting before Celine stepped out the door.

The night air was pleasant. Streetlamps illuminated cobblestone which still hummed with a low level of foot traffic. Celine surmised there was a pub somewhere nearby when the occasional breeze would carry with it the smell of bread and the sound of a guitar and laughter.

A friendly wave was exchanged with the coach driver waiting at the end of the block. He crushed a half-finished cigarette beneath his heel before turning to remove the feedbag he'd placed over his horse's muzzle.

Celine slowed to a stop. She turned, looking up at the buildings behind her until she spotted the desired window.

Levi's apartment had gone dark. A soft smile grew on Celine's face before she turned away.

"He really is a good person," Celine said to herself. She lifted a finger to trace the scar along her cheek. Its presence didn't bother her as much as it had before.

It's time to grow up a little, huh? No more harassing Levi about this courting business – he's comfortable as he is, and I don't want to risk losing what I gained today.

Celine let out a content sigh. She lifted her chin as she approached the stagecoach ready to take her home.

Levi stood in the kitchen, listening to the sound of Celine's crutch fading away outside the door. His hands were dried in a methodical fashion before he stepped over to the lantern hanging in the entryway. Its supply of oil was cut until it was at a low flicker, the other two lanterns about the room following suit. A sliver of Levi's reflection was visible as he leaned against the wall near the window. He crossed his arms as he waited.

Celine was visible before too long. She made her way down the street, lifting a hand in greeting to the coach driver waiting at the end of the block. It was about halfway to the coach that Celine came to a stop. The glow from the streetlight illuminated her face as she turned and looked up at the window. Logic told Levi she wouldn't be able to see him, but it didn't stop him from staying still as stone.

Celine turned away after a moment. She continued along the street, taking the driver's offered hand to help her into the coach. The driver urged his horse into motion a minute later and they were soon gone from sight.

What's happening?

Something had shifted when Celine turned to look up at his window. It felt like Levi had been in a fight for his life, his heart beating so fast he could feel it in his ears.

Levi turned away from the window with a frustrated sound. The smell of salve still hung in the air, reminding him of the sensation of running his fingers over Celine's scars. It had been oddly enticing. An urge to do the same to the scar along her cheek had almost overtaken him. Levi had put distance between himself and Celine when that happened, keeping his gaze averted in case she could read his expression.

He lifted a hand to cover his eyes. His face felt flushed.

Dammit … What the hell am I supposed to do now?