Longing to Be Known | Levi Ackerman x OC

75

Levi shuffles before standing, giving a small tug on my hand. I follow suit through the hallway as he leads me to our room, but as soon as we enter the main corridors, he drops my hold. My hand swings back to my side, and although I'm slightly disappointed, I understand he doesn't want to detract any attention from the expedition tomorrow. We pass by random soldiers on the way back to our rooms, giving courtesy nods here as Levi scolds them to get some rest. I, on the other hand, schedule a teapot to arrive upstairs in half an hour.

Eventually I find myself on Levi's chair at his desk while he's in the bathroom washing his face. I open his drawers, looking for the matches so we can light up the room and turn off the lights to conserve the limited electricity we have. Amongst shuffling through his neat papers is a box and after rattling it, I'm convinced it's a matchbox.

Pulling it out, I open it, only to see one intact hair tire, another one that's snapped, and a silver ring. Confused, I pick up the elastic band, analyzing it with the small glowing orb in his room. I've never seen someone use such a bold hair-tie before, but it's definitely a really cute colour. I've rarely seen such a bright fuchsia colour, and the fact that Levi has one is kind of weird. The tap water stops, and I put the hair-tie back in its box, leaving it on the table.

Searching through his desk again, Levi comes out with a cloth over his face like usual before folding it carefully.

"You haven't found the matches yet?"

"No, I've been looking ever since we got here—did you move them?"

"Of course not, that's why I'm asking, idiot." He retorts with sharp intonation.

Upset with his tone, I chastise him, "Hey, don't talk to me like that."

"This is just how I talk." He responds.

"No, it's not. What's going on with you?"

He turns from me, "Nothing."

"You know I hate it when you do that." I firmly state.

He stays quiet, sliding next to me, opening a drawer I checked a minute ago, pulling out the matches.

"They're right here. Are you blind?"

My eyebrows crease in confusion, "Did I do something wrong?"

He ignores the question, striking the match and lighting the candle, "We should get some sleep before tomorrow."

"Levi," I begin, "Answer the question."

He moves towards his dresser, swiftly peeling his shirt off his body, changing into a dark shirt. Astonished by his rudeness, I march over to him, blocking his path in frustration. He doesn't look at me, and keeps his head turned away despite my efforts to reach his gaze. Suppressing my upset nature, I take a small breath and approach the situation differently with a softer tone.

"You can't avoid the question, Levi. What's on your mind? Do you need to talk about something? Did I do something?" I question.

"You already know, so stop pretending you don't." He calmly says, sliding past me to grab a shirt.

"Know what?" I say, confused.

He turns to me, "You see people's memories when you touch them, don't you? So stop acting like you don't know."

"Is that what this is about? For all I know, in order to gain memories there needs to be some sort of goal when searching." I reply.

"Then how'd you know about Isabel's nicknames? I thought you said you didn't search for them on purpose." He challenges.