Written for RivaMika Week, Day 3
Prompt: Red - A state of light to medium embarrassment
Summary: In which Connie is an artist, Mikasa gets angry and Levi's cravats are ruined.

Sketch mentioned in story is inspired by: 傷じゃないのよエレンくん by 川中みや＠FOW4 S04 on Pixiv

A/N: This is actually my first complete and posted fanfic; all hail the power of the RivaMika ship! *runs away to hide*

Mikasa Ackerman closed her eyes, drinking deeply of the warm summer air as she stepped across the grass. It was the last ten minutes of the lunch hour, and she had taken the opportunity to enjoy a stroll around the grounds of the Survey Corps' base. Despite being a military facility, its surroundings were surprisingly easy on the eye, and as Mikasa gazed over the rolling hills in the distance, she felt an unusual calm wash over her. It was one of those rare moments where she could truly relax: they were not on a mission, she was not under the shadow of a looming titan, and Eren was safe within the castle nearby –

"Uh, I'm not sure I'm really comfortable with this."

Eren's voice drifted faintly to her ears from somewhere in the distance. He was supposed to be having another cup of coffee in the dining room, thought Mikasa. Instinctively she turned her steps towards the direction of her brother's voice, as a familiar sense of concern began to creep into the place where peace had been just moments before. Why is he outside, and more importantly – what, or who, is troubling him?

"You know, for once I agree with Jaeger. I don't like this one bit." Jean's rough and angry voice reverberated in the still heat. "You've got some nerve, throwing such a thing in front of us like that." Mikasa felt slightly assured at this, but did not slow her pace. At least Eren's not alone, and Jean seems to be on his side for once. He will protect Eren until I get there.

"But wow, Connie… you're really quite… good… at this, aren't you." Another voice she could recognize anywhere – Armin's. His words spoke of a compliment, but his tone was another thing altogether. She could read the emotions in it well due to years of association: surprise, as well as genuine admiration, but also laced with an unmistakable sense of unease. Something not immediately threatening, but worthy of caution nonetheless. Mikasa began to walk a little faster. Eren didn't always read or respond to situations correctly, but Jean was getting better at it and Armin's judgment was nearly invariably right.

"Aww, come on guys! You have to admit they are hot together."

She finally spotted the group as she turned the corner of the building. The four of them were gathered around the back steps of the castle entrance – Jean with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, Eren with his hands shoved in his pockets and kicking at a tuft of grass on the ground. Armin was in one of his classic thinking poses: one arm folded across his chest, the hand of the other lifted to his chin as he rested the weight of his head on his knuckles. All three of them were pointedly averting their eyes from the thin stack of papers that Connie was eagerly waving under their noses.

"What's going on?"

The four boys nearly jumped out of their boots at the sound of Mikasa's inquiry. They spun around abruptly to face her, while Connie desperately tried to stuff the stack of papers down his pants behind his back. One sheet slipped out of his hands and drifted behind the stairs, but the culprits were too flustered to notice.

As usual, quick-thinking Armin was first to recover. "H-hey Mikasa, taking a walk?"

Mikasa's eyes narrowed at this suspicious display of behavior. The stack of papers was out of sight, but all four of them were now clearly avoiding looking at her.

"Yes I was… what is going on?" she repeated, as they all began to shift uncomfortably.

"Oh nothing, we were just, er, having a chat, you know", said Armin, as he laughed lightly. He really wasn't fooling her and he knew it, but plowed on nonetheless. "Anyway! We should get going. We have to saddle up the horses in time for this afternoon's training. See ya later, Mikasa!"

Turning on his heel, he ushered the other three a little too quickly towards the direction of the stables. She watched their retreating backs, keeping an eye on the stack of papers sticking out from Connie's waistband, which the short Survey Corps jacket was doing a poor job of concealing. She started after them, but paused when she noticed the lone piece of paper fluttering lightly in the breeze as she passed the stairs. Alright, let's see what these jokers were trying to hide, she muttered to herself as she bent over to pick it up.

Flipping the paper over, she found herself looking at a picture – apparently drawn by Connie, if she had understood the earlier conversation correctly. The sketch was rendered loosely in pencil and showed her and… Captain Levi?… in a rather… compromising position. Momentarily dumbstruck, Mikasa stood stock still for about three seconds before disgust took over and she crushed the flimsy sheet furiously between her palms. What the hell. I'm so going to burn this, she fumed as she stalked up the stairs and into the castle. Where can I get some match—

"Oi, Ackerman."

Mikasa paused in mid stomp. Of all the people…

"Have you seen Springer?"

Mikasa brought her feet together slowly, but stopped short of turning in the direction of his voice. What is wrong with the world today? Everyone is going crazy. Levi never asks for Connie outside of training… even during training he avoids Connie like the plague because he's such an idiot at battle strategy. What could he possibly want with him right n– oh no. Mikasa's hand clenched the crumpled ball of paper in her fist as the switches clicked in her head. No. No way.

Steeling her expression, she swiveled her head towards him and looked him dead in the eye. His countenance was stone cold, as usual.

"Why are you looking for him, sir?"

Levi arched his eyebrow in response. Oh? This is new. Ackerman is unusually chatty today, huh.

"He owes me something," he replied, in a clipped tone. His mild amusement at Ackerman's unexpected query escalated into full-blown astonishment as she whipped her head around suddenly, but not quite fast enough for him to miss the shock in her eyes and the drop of her jaw.

"No sir, I'm afraid I haven't seen Connie. Now if you'll excuse me." The words rushed out of Mikasa's mouth as she moved quickly down the hall, first walking, then trotting, then breaking into a full sprint as she rounded the corner, flew up the stairs to her room and slammed the door behind her.

She slumped against the door and closed her eyes. This is ridiculous, she thought, as she felt her heartbeat pounding in her ears. A succession of emotions washed over her – annoyance, disbelief, anger… it was then she realized she was still clutching that damned piece of paper in her hand. Slowly, Mikasa unfurled it and stared at the rough outlines. The pencil version of her had her eyes closed and lips slightly parted. Her face was turned away from pencil-Levi who was apparently… licking… her neck. Her cheeks and Levi's tongue had been tinted a faint shade of pink – the only spots of color on an otherwise monochrome sketch.˙

An unfamiliar sensation began to twist deep down inside Mikasa as she continued to study the paper. And as it grew, it spread from her belly, up to her chest, through the pounding of her ears, and finally manifested on her face in a blush mirroring that of her inanimate counterpart. No, in fact the real Mikasa's blush was much deeper than the one on paper, threatening to match the color of the scarf she tried to bury her mortified face in.

"The fuck, Springer."

Levi crossed his arms and glowered at the shaven head bowed low in front of him as the boy stood in the doorway of his office. In Connie's outstretched and trembling hands were a stack of his white cravats. Or at least, at one time they had been perfectly white.

"I'm extremely sorry, sir! I had them washed just like you said, but somehow they came out like… this…" Connie faltered. I am so, so screwed, he thought.

Levi glared again at the stack of cravats, now dyed a sickly, pale yellow. Clearly, the kid had forgotten to separate his whites and had soaked his superior's pristine cravats together with his own murky brown (and probably filthy) uniform jacket. Levi pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his right hand before slowly, painfully, running his palm down his face.

"Not only are you useless at training, it seems it's possible that you're even more useless at getting punished. Moron." Levi snatched the stack of ruined cravats out of Connie's hands. "Dismissed. I've had enough headaches from you today already."

Connie gave a quick salute, turned on his heel and ran down the hall before the captain could change his mind. I can't believe my luck, he thought. I thought for sure I was going to be put on floor-scrubbing duty for the rest of the year…

He failed to notice a single, forgotten piece of paper dislodging itself from the back of his pants and landing at Captain Levi's feet as he made his hasty escape. Unfortunately for Connie, said captain was well-known for his shady but sharp eyes.

Levi retrieved the paper from the floor and studied it carefully. His face betrayed no emotion as his eyes roamed over the sheet.

Turning around, Levi walked over to his desk, closing his office door behind him. He opened the top drawer and slipped the pencil sketch inside, before pushing it shut and securing it firmly with a tiny key. As he dropped the key inside his pants pocket, a smirk began to pull at the corner of his mouth.

Seems that Springer is not completely useless after all…