To Die By Your Side - Yandere Levi Ackerman x reader

2)

What a strange dream.

I open my eyes to complete darkness, a soft surface beneath me must mean I'm in my room.

How and when did I get home? Where's the sun?? Is it still late? I did have a bad dream after all.

I clear my throat, feeling the scratchy discomfort of dehydration. It can only be described as sandpaper rubbing against my esophagus as I continue to try and get whatever is lodged unstuck. Something small comes up into my mouth, I sit up and spit it out into my hand with what remaining saliva I have left. It was too dark to see but it was small and circular, but flat, from what my fingers could tell.

I smack my tongue around my mouth. I desperately need water.

My legs feel oddly numb, so I use my hands to help me swing them over the edge of the bed. I must have taken an extremely long nap. I lean forwards, putting pressure on them. My ankles tingle - they must be asleep.

Still in a dazed sleepy state, I ignore the fizzy feeling. My attempt to stand is pathetic, I immediately fall onto the hardwood floor, letting out a cry of pain as I slam down onto coldness. My head hits the ground, and as it does, clearer memories come flooding back.

It was all real, but I still don't understand why I'm in so much pain or what even happened with the Captain.

A creak of a door indicates someone has walked into the room, along with warm flickering candle light.

Tears start falling down my face, I can't hold it in any longer. I reach around in a panic for whatever I can find around me on the floor to help my situation. I grab onto something hard and squeaky to the touch, like leather-

"What do you think you're doing?" I hear a familiar voice, followed by a scoff, "Idiot."

Warm arms wrap around me, effortlessly lifting me back into the cozy bed. The freezing cold of the headboard was oddly soothing against my back. I grip onto the pillow, practically screaming into it, as if the volume was going to lessen the pain in my calves as I pull my knees to my chest in an effort to take some of the weight off my ankles.

"You spat out the medicine then. No wonder you're so uncomfortable." The man speaks again, the mattress slanting as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Come on now."

I struggle with the person, I want to keep my face buried in the cool fabric, I can feel myself burning up. They pull my face away, discarding the pillow to the side, using their thumb to put the small tablet in my mouth, my screaming becoming whimpers of pain.

"I promise the floor is cleaner than you can imagine." The medicine is in my mouth but I can't swallow, "Plus, this stuff isn't cheap."

My eyes are still blurred, I can't tell what's going on, but the person puts their hand on my chin, tilting my head backwards and pouring water from a cup into my mouth.

"It's okay. I know it's hard."

I try to swallow but from all the sobbing, my whole body feels so overwhelmed with emotion and pain it's hard to consume anything.

"There you go."

Searing hot pain writhes through my bones still. I try to focus on my breath and calm myself down. Unfamiliar cold hands are pressed against my face, fingers on my temples and thumbs over my eyelids - it helps soothe my headache substantially, and I grip onto the skin between my thumb and finger; an old trick my Dad had taught me, a pressure point 'said' to have helped with migraines.