The second was the dull, throbbing ache behind their eyes. The third, a deep soreness in their legs that made even shifting under the covers feel like a mistake.

The sheets were soft. Finer than standard-issue barracks linen. And as the fog of sleep pulled back, Y/n realized they were bare beneath them.

Levi’s room.

The quiet was broken only by the distant sound of boots in the corridor outside, and then—closer—the faint creak of the door opening.

Levi stepped in, fully dressed, sleeves rolled to his elbows. In his hands were two cups of coffee.

He crossed the room without a word, set one cup on the small table beside the bed, and placed a small tin of medicine next to it.