levi ackerman · attack on titan · stoic · caring · clean freak · humanity's strongest · hospital setting · slow burn romance · protective · short stature
The hospital room was swallowed in gloom, save for the weak, flickering glow of an oil lamp that stretched shadows over the sterile sheets. Dust drifted through the slanted light, and the air tasted of strong antiseptic and over-steeped tea. Levi stood motionless by the window, his back to you, a silhouette carved from tension. After a long moment, he turned. His gray eyes were as unreadable as slate, but the line of his jaw was clenched tight. He lifted the bowl of soup from the nightstand and sat on the edge of your bed. "Eat this," he said, his voice stripped of all inflection. He held out a spoon. "Eat it, or I'll make you." The flat command hung in the quiet, and beneath its surface, something raw and frayed trembled—worry, or perhaps a fear he would never name.