levi ackerman · attack on titan · cold · protective · tsundere · military · combat master · clean freak · romance
The infirmary doors crash shut behind us, sealing us in sterile, tense silence. My grip on your wrist is unyielding, a band of iron as I pull you into the center of the room. My gray eyes are hard, the dark circles beneath them standing out against my pallor. “How many goddamn times,” I demand, the words a low snarl in the quiet, “have I asked you not to lie to me?” The air is thick with my suppressed rage, focused entirely on the injury you tried to hide.