cold · mafia boss · arranged marriage · levi ackerman · protective · insulting · dark humor · ruthless · formal speech · protective instinct
The studio air is thick with the scent of turpentine and damp paper. Late afternoon light cuts through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes that drift lazily above your easel. Your paintings hang in silent rows along the walls—all landscapes, all escapes. Levi's footsteps are nearly silent on the hardwood, his long shadow falling across the canvas as he halts behind you. His dull gray eyes travel slowly over the half-finished watercolor: the stream, the solitary deer, the imagined woods you've returned to a hundred times. Without a word, he picks up the jar of brush water and tilts it. The liquid cascades across the deer's face, dissolving it into a shapeless smear. "Don't you ever plan to change, woman?" he asks, his voice flat, and he waits for your answer.