He had no solid excuse for being up right now.
And while he could bullshit to save his life, he couldn’t help but wonder what had called him out here, what had drove him from the warmth of his bed and into the frigid arms of the night. Once upon a time, he’d been something akin to a creature of the night, lurking in the shadows and using them to his advantage, but that had been a long time ago—and those were ways he had long since shed. Familiar green cloak tucked securely around his shoulders (in some ways it served as a quiet reassurance, though he’d never admit to that), a small ‘huff’ of a noise escaped the Captain as he slowly made his way along the grounds, attention briefly turning to the sky, effortlessly getting lost in his thoughts.
It was going to rain—no, it was going to storm. Judging by the shape of the clouds and sharp bite of the wind, it was going to be a violent one. Any expeditions they had planned would probably be put on the back-burner, at least until the storm died. It was hard enough to fight the titans on dry ground; mud would make it nothing short of a suicide run. A brief memory stirred at the mention of a suicide run, but like so many others, it was pushed out of his conscious mind, instead lingering on the subconscious as something that would haunt him until he chose to acknowledge it.
Lips pressing into a thinner line, the Captain dropped his attention from the sky, the soft thud of footsteps—the noise was soft, someone was either sneaking or incredibly light on their feet—wrenching him away from the crash-course his mind had been trying to take. There was a time and a place to remember, to regret, and it wasn’t when he was out in the open like this. Shoulders and back stiffening, the Captain gave a small ‘tsck’ when he caught sight of the supposed intruder; what a shame, he’d been looking forward to beating the hell out of the unfortunate soul attempting to spy.
—Though, her presence raised more questions than answers.
Ackerman, Mikasa: the soldier worth one hundred men, or so he’d been told. One of Jaeger’s friends, though that only made her more questionable to the Captain. Coming to a halt, Levi took a moment to simply regard the younger soldier, taking in the subtle cues from her body language, thoroughly unimpressed with the display.
Simply put, he didn’t trust her.
"Ackerman," he acknowledged after another moment of silence, a slim brow raising in an (almost) unspoken question. "Why’re you out here? Isn’t exactly time to see the sunrise yet, and I doubt you’re the kind to star-gaze."
And this man just did what she hoped he wouldn’t do. As if he’d read her mind. … As if he’d done that on purpose.
She could feel the corners of her lips contort by the slightest, tugging themselves into the faintest of frowns. Certainly, it was but a mere inquiry a superior of hers had voiced out; and of course, superiors within the military had their rights to knowing about their private soldiers’ general activities. There was caution to take into consideration. She was well aware of that fact, and she knew it was a given. And yet, the irrational thought that still nagged at the back of her mind just wouldn’t die down.
Lips remained pursed as his questioning voice lingered in the air. But an exhale then escapes through her nose; an inaudible yet lackadaisical sigh, and her chin tips down by the slightest, lowering her gaze to the grass beneath her feet. Fleeting seconds of silence ticked by as quick as the swift gust of wind that brushed past their figures and swayed their cloaks into dancing along with it. And, obliged to respond, slim lips soon parted to speak.
“… I’m aware of that.” Words merely above a whisper drawled out like the sigh of the winds swept through the trees, and her voice was flat, unchanging.
And yet, even as she racked for a more proper response past the disconcerted thoughts that still reeled in her mind, she found herself unable to give an answer, much to her inexpressible chagrin. Or, at least one that she deemed fitting to give the Captain. After all, he certainly didn’t seem to care for trifling, personal matters. Assuming that she was willing to share her own matters with him in the first place, that is.
But, there was another thing to consider. If she won’t give him a satisfactory answer soon… To be fair, she wasn’t quite sure what he would do. But she foresaw nothing pleasant coming out of it. And though she truthfully wasn’t afraid of him per se, testing his patience seemed like a rather suicidal thing to do, from what she’d observed of him so far. And frankly, she just wasn’t feeling up to going through more disturbances than necessary.
“It seemed like a fair night… The interior felt stifling to me.” It wasn’t too far from the truth; but, well, if one considered some chilly gusts of wind any indication to ‘fair’ weather, then so be it. Her gaze soon shifted to the Captain’s direction, casting a sideways glance at him. “… And I assume you’re here for the same reason.”
Words intended to be a question, yet passed through her lips like a mere statement. Perhaps that was a bold thing to say. And to imply that he might have done the same as she did, if asked about his presence in turn; that he might have tried to evade her question had she asked him, was as risky as treading over thin ice.
Though despite the impassive look she wore to counter the disinterest she assumed the man to express, to say she wasn’t even the least bit curious about his approach would have been a lie as well.