Mikasa lay beside the long pillow. It was an ordinary pillow that floated on top of her comforter during the day. At night, though, she drew it close when things felt too empty. Armin's face appeared suddenly when she shut her eyes, and so she pressed her face into the side of the oversized pillow.

It did not help.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and reluctantly forced herself to sit up. A nap had not been in her original plans for the day, but rehearsal and anticipation had worn her out. She stretched one more time before wandering to the kitchen to switch on the electric kettle. Tea and yogurt were critical afternoon staples in her life. Besides, there likely would not be much for her at the gala in terms of snacks.

She added sliced almonds to her bowl for good measure as her phone chimed on the counter nearby. Annie and Sasha had finally responded to her inquiry.

Annie: Blue

Sasha: definitely

The kettle puffed steam as she slipped a tea bag into her favorite mug (one of two mugs in the entire apartment). She appraised, not for the first time, her bare home. Until recently, this had not struck her as a problem. She thumbed the counter– Spotless. Not from perfect cleaning habits, but from a lack of use altogether. The entire place seemed to threaten loneliness the more she considered it.

It was a train of thought that she quickly abandoned in lieu of something more productive.

She got ready methodically; as she might for one of the ballet's galas or opening nights (that she was not dancing in, that was). Anything to ignore the fear that Armin might not be interested in something more than friendship.

Then again, she was going to this gala either way, wasn't she? Not to mention that she had invited herself in the first place. It was a little late to lack conviction, she thought to herself as she settled her hair into place. The blue dress hung, satiny and simple, from a hook on the closet door. She slipped it on before examining herself in the mirror. It was difficult not to wonder what he might think. Her phone pinged again— He was downstairs.

On the slow elevator ride to the lobby, she scrolled up through their texts from earlier that day.

Armin: Connie says to tell Sasha to look at her phone.

Mikasa: Making friends?

Armin: Do I get a gold star?

Sasha's phone, of course, had been long dead by that point in rehearsal. She never managed to keep it charged, despite Mikasa and Annie's reminders.

Armin: I'm glad you're coming with me tonight.

There it was— the message she kept returning to all afternoon. It might mean nothing more than face value, she had told herself. But—

Would he say such a thing so casually?

The elevator chimed and then shuddered to a halt. Mikasa had barely slipped her phone into a small bag at her side when the doors parted to reveal him, shifting from foot to foot, near the front door of the apartment lobby. His eyes lifted the moment she stepped out. He blinked slowly, his brow drawing upward, and she watched as he appeared to take two deep, long breaths.

She could not say exactly when she had noticed this ritual of his. Armin's chest rose and fell; he bit his bottom lip. That was also when she realized that she was openly staring. He blinked again, and a faint smile glanced across his lips. However, when she finally started toward him, his eyes swept to the floor.

But when she neared, his gaze lifted suddenly; the half-smile bloomed into a full one. It caught her by surprise and her mouth tugged up in response.

"Ready?" he said.

What was that tone in his voice, she wondered. Nervousness? Excitement?

"Time to see what Levi is complaining about," she said, hoping she sounded more casual than she felt.

"You'll see," Armin said, his smile turning down slightly.

She did not know how right he would turn out to be.

"Do you have a strict diet?" Armin wondered aloud before following it up quickly with, "Sorry, is that rude to ask?"

She shook her head and plucked up a strawberry from a table piled high with fruits, cheeses, and minuscule pastries.

"Maybe as rude as me asking if you practice. It comes with the job. So, yes, it's strict I guess, but I don't mind. And I'm a little flexible in the off-season."

Armin nodded.

"That makes sense. I guess, for me, I write more off-season and practice a little less. Even though I should practice more to make up for the shorter rehearsals," he said shyly.

"Write music, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Would you show me?"

The question had come out before she might rethink whether she ought to ask. He smiled in response, though, neither answering nor denying.

"So, what about outside of music?" she said, genuinely wondering.

"I'm not sure," he suddenly admitted. "Not much."

"Me neither," she agreed.

He sent her a look that she could not decipher. But she could not help but savor the way he appeared to be studying her; understanding her, even.

"Ok, what's your favorite ballet?"

She contemplated. Sipped her water. Brushed her shoulder ever so slightly to his.

"To dance? Or to watch?"

"Both," he said, not moving away.

"Ok. I guess, well I— I loved dancing Swan Lake."

Her own stuttering caught her off guard. How did he do that to her?

"Then, which ballet do you like watching?" he persisted.

Something seemed to have caught in him and he met her gaze now. Was it the way he listened so intently that tripped her nerves?

Her lips curved up slightly. She felt almost shy now but did not look away.

"Do you know the ballet, Giselle?"

He shook his head, looking bashful.

"No. I'm so uneducated about ballet. You would think I would have learned more by now."

It was her turn to shake her head.

"No one expects you to know all there is about it in a few weeks."

Except for him, perhaps. He was too hard on himself. He gave her a curious look, though, as if he knew exactly what she meant.

"It's a boring choice anyway," she blurted out. "Everyone loves it."

A laugh escaped him suddenly.

"What's funny?" she said, anxiety slipping below her words. Armin shook his head.

"You could never be boring, Mikasa."

She watched him closely now, weighing the weight of her name on his tongue, but he was focused on something behind her. The guarded mask that suddenly slipped over his expression made her realize just how much he had begun to drop it since she had gotten to know him. She took a second glance at his eyes, still soft behind the nervous facade, always bright.

"What's wrong?"

These things always came out hard and pointed when she tried. Why could she never say it right? However, Armin's downcast expression shifted to one of amusement, even if only for a moment.

"Sorry, it's just Levi."

Armin shot her an apologetic smile, but it was her turn to be amused. She shook her head.

"He's softer than he looks. Who's he with?"

She followed Armin's gaze to see her cousin standing and talking to an older woman. Her clothes were not as flashy as many others, but everything on her suggested wealth. Mikasa said nothing as Levi began to guide the woman their way, but a feeling of alarm crept beneath her skin.

"Mrs. Tybur," Armin explained in a hushed voice beside her, his arm pressing lightly to hers. "She was widowed late last year. Ever since, being a big donor to the symphony has been her full-time hobby."

"Do you know her?"

"I've only met her once, after the opening night of the season. She's–"

He cut himself off as they grew closer. Where their arms still touched, Mikasa felt his grow rigid before he shifted away.

"Armin. Mikasa—" Levi said her name with the faintest hint of surprise at seeing her. "This is Mrs. Tybur. She is one of the symphony's biggest fans."

Mikasa kept her face straight for the sake of their new company, but she knew Levi long enough to know when he was annoyed. She had also known him long enough to know that his ability to deliver this very generous introduction must be a result of a lot of time with Erwin.

"The biggest fan, even," Mrs. Tybur said in a cloying drawl. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Arlert."

There was a tug on Mikasa's arm. She followed Levi's request reluctantly but stopped him short before they could get too far from Armin and his new friend.

"What're you doing here?" Levi accused.

Like her, his questions tended to come out sharply.

"I'm here with Armin," she said defensively; almost a challenge in return.

Levi's eyebrows lifted slightly. He glanced between Armin, then her, then back again.

"I see."

But she was sure neither of them was interested in small talk.

"Why did you bring her over?"

Mikasa looked once more at Mrs. Tybur, whose hand was making contact with Armin's arm. A shot of irritation ran through her, but Levi's next words froze her in place.

"She is rich. And she's on the hunt."

It made Mikasa bristle.

"On the hunt for what?" she asked, more suspicious with each passing moment.

Levi rolled his eyes as if she ought to know.

"Armin's chair position is the only section leader seat that doesn't have a dedicated endowment. She's looking to sponsor it."

And to boast about it, Mikasa silently filled in before looking back at the pair. Mrs. Tybur was too close. Armin's body tensed. Leaned away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Levi hissed under his breath.

His hand closed loosely around her wrist as she took the first step.

"I didn't realize you were such a sellout," Mikasa replied in a low tone.

It had come out before she could think. She knew it was too hurtful of a thing to say, even as she said it. And as Levi's mouth slid into a grimace, she regretted it.

"Because you aren't?" He accused. "Don't be stupid, you and I both know how this works. What's gotten into you?"

She scowled, trying to dig up an answer to that. She should have known that Levi never started a fight he could not win. Besides, he was right. She did know.

Her great fortune, if anything, was to be paired in the public's eye— well, the ballet-attending public— with Eren. Her eyes flicked back toward the ever-shrinking Armin. Levi gave a wry sort of chuckle.

"I didn't expect this." He nodded, almost imperceptibly, toward Armin.

Mikasa knew the blush was working its way across her cheeks but tried to sour her expression. It only made Levi scoff.

"How did you get sponsored, anyway?" She finally demanded. Because how did anyone as acidic as Levi get someone to fork up that much money?

"Erwin convinced them," Levi said flatly.

No wonder, she thought. And it certainly did not hurt that Levi was a flawless performer. He might have pursued a solo career, had he ever wanted to.

"What about you? I'm guessing you're not exactly sucking up to donors," Levi threw right back.

"Package deal," she muttered, "with Eren."

Levi, whether he knew it or not, had hit a weak spot.

After all, Eren was inspiring, and he made her look better on stage. That is what she had heard, anyway. Even if it was something that Zackly had said, and therefore ought not be a thing worth considering. It remained difficult to let go of this insecurity regardless because she was never sure that it was not true. She frowned at the recurring thought.

But she caught the twist of a frown in the corner of her eye and suddenly none of it was a good enough reason for Armin to be made to look so upset. Mikasa took another step, but Levi planted himself in front of her.

"Shit, will you just think for one fucking second? I didn't say not to do anything; I'm just saying to use your head instead of barging the fuck over there."

She paused. He might have a point, she silently conceded.

Use your head.

Mikasa forced herself to walk toward them at a normal pace, drawing herself close to Armin. She could not bring herself to smile and so instead delivered a cursory nod to his harasser.

"— and my daughter, Lara, absolutely loves it! I have been giving to the Symphony ever since," Mrs. Tybur said with a note of self-importance that made Mikasa entirely sympathetic to Levi's annual complaints. The woman's hand landed on Armin's forearm this time, and he jumped ever so slightly. Mikasa did her best to resist a scowl, though she was not sure it was fully concealed. Mrs. Tybur remained focused on Armin.

Old witch.

Mikasa raised her fingers to her temple and winced.

Armin glanced her way and she knew he had seen. She had never been more pleased to be with someone so attentive. Well, not with, she chastised herself. She winced again, though this time it was not quite so contrived.

Armin nodded politely to Mrs. Tybur.

"We— We're so grateful to have your support," he said. Even as he stumbled on the words, he managed to sound sincere. His hands motioned awkwardly. "Mrs. Tybur, this is Mikasa. My–"

His what? Her mind reeled as Mrs. Tybur swiftly interrupted Armin.

"And aren't you lovely?" Mrs. Tybur crooned at Mikasa, who struggled more than ever to keep a straight face.

But Armin jumped on the short pause that followed, his attention locked onto Mikasa.

"Is everything okay?" he said to her softly, his voice full of genuine concern. A knot formed in Mikasa's stomach.

"Just a headache," she said. "It's nothing."

"Here, I'll— Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Tybur, I—"

"Oh, no. No, dear, please take care of your friend. It was such a pleasure, though. I do so look forward to the next concert!"

Mrs. Tybur squeezed her hand into a funny little wave before excusing herself to drift toward Erwin Smith, where she also happened to rudely sideline Levi, who now glared at the floor. Armin, although he still looked a little shaken, began immediately toward the refreshment table.

"I'll get you some water. And if you need to leave early, please don't stay for me."

Her heart sank.

"I can take you home anytime you want," he added next.

It lifted her spirits back up.

"Armin," she said before he could make any more progress toward the beverages. "I feel fine."

His eyes skimmed her over twice, brows knitting cutely together.

"I lied," she explained, keeping quiet from the people passing near them. He fidgeted and toed the ground before carefully admitting,

"I— I wondered."

"How?" She demanded, voice still low.

"How, what?"

"How did you know?"

He hesitated. She searched his eyes for an answer.

"Oh, you— Well, at the rehearsal dinner, you tried to hide it. I just thought, maybe—" His face softened, a half-smile creeping across his mouth even as he murmured, "You didn't have to do that."

All she could think to do was shrug before the sound of Sasha's voice cut through the noise of the crowd around them.