He would show his crush affection by bringing them tea or touching them slightly.
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"Come in!" you chime, looking up from your paperwork.
Levi enters the room with a tray of tea in hand. He closes the door silently and murmurs a greeting before sitting down on the opposite chair.
"Thanks. I really needed a break." you put the pen down and take the first sip of your cup. "Are you done with work?"
Levi nods and avoids your gaze. He stares tiredly out the window. His hair seems almost brownish in the candle light and his skin looks healthier.
You've always liked how pale he was – it was attractive in your opinion. But at the same time it made you sad, consideringt why he was so sun-starved. From the moment you learned about life in the underground and what your comrade had to experience, you felt nothing but admiration for him. You knew that Levi was rude and often seen as rough or heartless, but deep down, he was just an old man. Tired, touch starved, mentally exhausted and lonely.
"You look shitty." Levi says suddenly.
You laugh, always amused by his way of talking. But by now you understand exactly what Levi tries to say with his blunt words and awkward body language. Go to bed. You look tired.
"I know, but I have to finish this." you reply, pointing to the paper. Levi hums, stands up and places his chair next to yours. "What are you doing?"
"Helping."
You put the cup down. "You don't have to. I though you were just here to bring tea?"
Levi, still not looking into your eyes, grumbles, "You can keep complaining like a brat or shut up."
"I wasn't complaining." you smile. "Thanks, Levi."
He grunts in acknowledgment. He doesn't even know why he's doing this. All night he just wanted to finish his own work and pass out, but you kept creeping back into his mind. Levi himself hasn't noticed it yet, but he was always seeking your attention, craving your touch – your company. It was unnormal. He was a lonely man, yes, but for him, Erwin and Hange were enough.
He touched people when it was absolutely necessary. Kenny only showed him how to hurt others after all. Affection was not part of his training. There are rare moments were Levi feels like patting one of the brat's heads. But apart from that, he doesn't need it. It was basically an instinct for him to block away physical touch from anyone.
Anyone but you.
God, he can't explain it, but as Levi keeps on steeling glances at you, the urge to touch your hand – only centimeters away from his – gets worse.
"Done! Do you want to stay for another drink?" you put a hand on his shoulder.
Levi finally gets the courage to ruffle your hair. He looks away, but keeps stroking your head while butterflies dance in his stomach.
