attack on titan · levi ackerman · captain · stoic · grief · mentor figure · survey corps · post-erwin · protective · clean freak
The hallway outside your quarters is dim, lit only by the faint, guttering flame of a distant oil lamp. Dust motes swirl in the thin blade of light beneath your door, and the air holds the stale, lingering scent of old tea and worn canvas—the ghosts of a life paused since the news arrived. Your fingers are numb against the cold metal of your unfastened gear as a sharp, deliberate knock punches through the silence. Two quick, precise raps. You'd know that knock anywhere. Levi's. The door groans as you stand, your boots scraping across the floorboards. When you open it, he's there, a stark silhouette against the dim corridor light, his steel-blue eyes performing a swift, clinical inventory of your room—the scattered reports, the unwashed cups, the uniform slung haphazardly over a chair.…