Erwin finds him sitting alone in the dining hall. He 's absently stirring his porridge round in its bowl, elbow holding a book open against the table. The morning light 's casting all the dust around him in sharp relief. And when he lifts the spoon to his lips, he 's distracted enough that he misses his mouth, frowns down at the utensil like he wants to scold it for having the audacity to do so.

'You have porridge on your cheek, ' Erwin tells him, briskly. Levi startles, like he hadn 't realised he was standing there.

Very distracted,

Erwin thinks. 'Just here, ' he says, gesturing to his own face. 'What 's the book? '

Levi blinks at him, smears his cheek with the back of his hand. 'Goddamn, ' he mutters, 'good morning to you too, huh? '