Zeke wondered if the bracelet was too much.

When Mr. Ksaver first suggested it, Zeke worried it wasn't enough. (Y/N) got jewelry every birthday, every holiday, every time her father wanted to buy her something new. She would always get a few wears out of it before it sat forgotten in her expensive jewelry box. He wanted to get her something she really loved, something practical and pretty that she could use every day.

But her birthday crept closer and closer and Zeke couldn't find anything good enough for her. He could hardly find the time to look; most of his mornings, afternoons, and evenings had to be dedicated to his training as the slated successor to the beast titan. Though, he knew he couldn't show up empty-handed; (Y/N) deserved much better.

He found the bracelet by chance one evening, walking a different path home than usual. The setting sun reflected against the silver, and he thought about how pretty it would look against (Y/N)'s skin. It took most of the money he had, but he thought it was worth it.

Yet, as he sat alone in the empty two-story house, he feared he made a purchase that would make him seem too eager.

He pushed himself up and moved to the open window. She should have been there by then, but the sun was out and the weather was nice. On days like those, (Y/N) liked to take her time. She would stop to speak to every familiar face, to look at every flower, to relish in the warm glory of the sunlight. Zeke never understood why she did this. But, if he was lucky, he would catch her standing just outside their hideaway – eyes closed, an easy curve of her lips, as if there was nothing but her and the day.

"Good morning,"

The first word that came to his mind when he saw her was radiant. She always looked nice, but he loved her in those expensive dresses; the way the fabric rested pretty on her frame. The skirt was pushed delicately by the breeze, as though Mother Nature herself knew she had no right to tamper with her beauty.

"You're all dressed up," Zeke noted, trying to sound aloof. "That couldn't have just been for me,"

(Y/N) moved deeper in the room, pretending to be preoccupied with something else. "And why couldn't it have been?"

He watched her kneel on the ground. She set the basket she carried beside her, and with the elegance of the most refined queen, she began to unpack. Fine, expensive-looking plates he'd never find in the internment zone. Glimmering silverware that made his fingers tighten around the bracelet in his pocket. He was right the first time; it wasn't nearly enough.

"How about you stop staring and come help me?" (Y/N) peered up at him through her lashes, teased him with a coy smile.

He laughed, but obeyed her command nonetheless. "Who said I was staring?"

"I did,"

He sat across from her and reached for the fresh berries packed in the cool glass bowl. Their fingers brushed — hers were soft and warm against his skin — and Zeke tried to meet her eyes, but (Y/N) smiled to herself as she moved to finish what she was doing.

When she looked up, Zeke thought she would say something else to get under his skin, but her gaze fell to his arm. She gave an annoyed sigh and click of her tongue that was every sense the elite. "I told you to quit wearing this damn thing,"

He watched her quick hands move for the white armband that rested above his sleeve. She told him not to wear it every single time she saw it. In fact, it was easier for him not to wear it, but Zeke liked feeling her fingers against him. It was worth the extra time it took.

"It slipped my mind," he told her.

Her eyes met his. She knew he was lying, but Zeke didn't bother trying to hide it. He wanted her to question it, to challenge him.

She knew that, too, so she never did.

She tucked the armband beside her, safe from Zeke's reach. "'I thought you'd be a bit more considerate today."

"Why's that?" Zeke feigned ignorance.

"You know why,"

"Oh," Zeke snapped his fingers. "You mean because it's your birthday!"

(Y/N) gave him that look again — the slight quirk of her brow, the subtle twist of her lips, and the gleam in her eye that almost looked annoyed. He loved it.

"Alright, fine," he relented, allowing himself to laugh. "I'll be good,"

"Hm,"

She reached for the knife but Zeke was quicker. The metal was cool in his palm, just as heavy as the daggers he trained with.

"Let me," he said. He reached for the roll of freshly baked bread, still slightly warm to the touch. He hoped his stomach wouldn't growl as he set it on a plate and carefully began to cut. "Hey, I saw your last poem in the paper. It was really good—"

"Zeke, I am so tired of writing poems." (Y/N) said, reaching for a raspberry. "They don't amount to anything. They can't change anything." Her eyes fell on him, shining with something he scarcely recognized. Adoration. It was the same way he looked at her. "You're studying medicine. You're going to save so many people. All I do is write meaningless words and win stupid awards."

You're going to save so many people.

Zeke thought of his parents.

It sounded so different from (Y/N)'s lips. It was not an expectation, it was not his purpose. She just had faith in him. She believed in him. It was a nice feeling.

"For what it's worth, I love your poems," Zeke tried. "You're very talented."

"Thanks," she said, albeit unconvincingly. She pulled two crystal glasses from the basket and Zeke had known her long enough to know it meant she was done talking about it. He watched her move for the water next.

"Ah, ah–" He grabbed it faster. "I've got it."

She studied him incredulously as he poured their drinks. "What are you doing?"

"Being more considerate," he answered, peering up at her through his lashes. He could see her fighting her smile and the faux dip in her brow to feign annoyance. Zeke grinned. "Just like you asked, right?"

She stared a few moments before she relented. Zeke knew she would; it was in her nature. She was used to people doing things for her.

"Whatever," she mumbled. Her dainty fingers reached for the fruit on her plate and she popped a raspberry into her mouth, tilting her head back just so. The light caught her jaw's elegant curve and Zeke fought the urge to reach out and trace it. He thought of a goddess he'd read about in a book once.

Aphrodite.

"Oh, hey..." He reached into his pocket as if he just remembered. As if he hadn't spent all day and the night before thinking about her gift. It was an afterthought – rather, he wanted her to believe it was. "I got you something,"

(Y/N)'s face brightened and she sat up straighter, eyes sparkling like the twinkling stars.  "What is it?" She stared eagerly as he reached into his pocket. "Zeke?"

"Hold on," he laughed. "Close your eyes first."

So, she did, laughing just the slightest bit as her long lashes brushed her cheek. "Always one for secrecy,"

"It's part of my charm," came his reply.

He carefully reached for her wrist. (Y/N)'s skin was soft and cool. She let him pull her hand to rest on his knee without a moment of hesitation. He relished in her trust – trust he certainly didn't deserve – and watched her smile as his thumb traced gently against her palm. Zeke hesitated.

He'd spent everything on that bracelet and yet it still wasn't enough for her. How could he be?

He slid his thumb to her fingertips. There was something remarkable about the feeling of her hand in his.

If she wasn't happy with the bracelet, she would not ever be happy with him. He considered pretending he lost the gift. That way, he could pretend she wanted him. Yet, he saw the way her lips curled with anticipation and he decided she deserved more than a lie.

He finally dropped the silver chain in her hand, curling her fingers around it.

"Okay, go ahead," Zeke leaned back. "Look,"

She opened her eyes, but she didn't look in her hand right away. Her gaze fell on him. "You're nervous," she noted. "Why?"

He made himself laugh. Zeke didn't know how to explain that he thought his worth would be decided by a gift. He knew it was groundless. He knew she wouldn't throw ten years away over a bracelet. Yet, as he sat separated from her by a sea of expensive dishes in his dirty Eldian clothes, it all felt rational.

Perfectly, perfectly rational.

"I don't know," he decided to say.

Her eyes rested upon him a moment longer, but finally, she relented. She uncurled her fingers and looked down.

Zeke almost sighed with relief when he saw her smile. She admired its shine in the sunlight, twisting it this way and that. It dangled daintily from her fingers; she was careful with it, and Zeke knew he'd done a good job.

"It's beautiful," she said. "How did...?" She caught herself and looked up to see if Zeke caught her too.

He smiled. "I've been doing a lot of odd jobs." His lie came easy. She didn't seem to notice. "It was nothing, just helps pass the time."

(Y/N) grinned and held out her wrist, passing the bracelet along to him. "You're my favorite person, you know that?"

Zeke felt his cheeks grow hot, but he was glad he had a reason to avoid her eyes. He could still feel her watching him as he fumbled to put the bracelet on her. She laughed at nothing in particular.

"Hey," she said.

He finally managed to find the clasp and hook the bracelet. He met her eyes at a loss for words, hoping for something he knew wouldn't come.

"Thank you, Zeke," Her smile was serene and gentle. Zeke loved when she smiled at him like that; it was nice to know someone cared about him. Not his status as a warrior. "I love it,"