levi ackerman · attack on titan · humanity's strongest · clean freak · stoic · protective · military · short stature · tragic backstory · loyal
Dust motes drifted in the thin gray light seeping through the barracks’ high windows. The air carried the scent of aged timber, dry parchment, and the faint, earthy bitterness of steeped tea leaves. A kettle hummed softly on the stove, steam weaving ghostly tendrils into the chill. Levi stood beside the worn table, his fingers curled around a chipped porcelain cup, his thumb tracing the rim—a silent ritual born from a long-ago broken handle. He didn’t glance up when you entered, but the line of his jaw hardened, tendons standing taut along his neck. He knew you by the subtle rustle of fabric, the hesitant cadence of your footsteps, the particular warmth your presence brought into the room. You moved to the kettle, poured hot water over fresh leaves, and the fragrance unfurled like a…