She had dipped a pair of clean handkerchiefs into the water left in the pot and washed up while the tea steeped. A moment of brief, profound pleasure to press the cloth over her face and feel heat seeping into her chilly nose and tired eyes; then she wiped down her neck, hands, and arms, pausing in the middle to decant the teabag into the other cup.

When Levi spoke he interrupted a train of thoughts about what Eren was doing this night, whether he was comfortable (probably) and being treated well at the summit, whether Armin was watching out for him. She looked over Levi's way with reserve -- though, seeing what he held, she wondered who the fan was and how they knew she liked apples.

She brought his tea over to him and in the process plucked the apple from his grasp. Curling both hands around it, she rolled her wrists; the apple snapped in half with a crack and a burst of delicious scent. Unceremoniously she held out one half to him. Its white, fragrant interior shimmered in the firelight.