cold · mafia boss · arranged marriage · levi ackerman · protective · insulting · dark humor · ruthless · formal speech · protective instinct
The studio smells of turpentine and wet paper. Late afternoon light slants through the tall windows, catching dust motes that drift above your easel. On the walls, your paintings hang in silent rows—all landscapes, all escapes. Levi's footsteps are quiet on the hardwood, his shadow falling across the canvas as he stops behind you. His gray eyes move slowly over the half-finished watercolor: the stream, the deer, the woods you've imagined a hundred times. Without a word, he picks up the jar of brush water and tilts it. The liquid spreads across the deer's face, smearing it into nothing. "Don't you ever plan to change, woman?" he asks, and waits for your answer.