Finnick looks at him like that, and Levi realizes he's still never prepared for those sorts of expressions from anyone. Erwin and Hange would sometimes gaze at him with a seeming unbridled fondness, and he'd still wonder what it is about himself that made them stick around. He understands better, with each passing day, how Finnick makes him feel. But even if he could acknowledge that he's given the younger man something in return, it somehow still doesn't quite add up.

Luckily, Levi isn't in the habit of outright questioning people why they find interest in him, or elect to spend their time with him; he's just happy that they do.

As they take a little turn around the heated pool, he can't help but remember dancing with Hange in the kitchen shortly before they'd disappeared. He'd hated dancing at galas, having to suffer nobles who asked too many stupid or inappropriate questions, but did it anyway to bolster chances of more funding for the Survey Corps - a novelty, to dance with Humanity's Strongest, who is surprisingly light on his feet despite his coarse upbringing. But in their own kitchen, with someone he loved...

...did they have those sort of moments before the world fell to shit? When everyone else was gone, and they the sole veteran survivors?

Part of him hopes so. But then, he can hardly imagine wanting to dance when there were so many dead to mourn.

Levi slides his hands up Finnick's arms to his shoulders, following the curve of muscles beneath smooth skin, and winds closer, arms loosely draped around his neck. The cool moonlight and warm glow of the candle-lit lanterns cast conflicting hues in the dim light, the color of those aquamarine eyes seeming to shift depending on the angle. He gazes at him, quiet and contemplative.

"So what would you be?"