Attack On Titan X-Readers

Wheels Of Time (Levi X Ghost!Reader)

~A/N: Listen As You Read!  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5ItNxpwChE ~

     Being the heavy sleeper he was despite the nightmares that woke him on occasion, he wasn't very sure of what had awoken him in the first place as he sat up in the plush mattress. His chest was bare as the sheets he had pulled up to his shoulders fell into his lap, and his onyx locks splayed about his forehead tickled his skin. The sudden cold chill that had him jump to a start had dissipated, yet it had reappeared in merely seconds once he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. As he stood it followed him, and as he strode to the shut window it lingered beside him. He just couldn't seem to shake it off.

     Glancing over his shoulder, he eyed the bed with the tousled sheets suspiciously, before flitting his silver ashen hues back down to the wooden floor. He swallowed thickly, running his fingers through his dark tresses while his gaze lingered on the emerald grass outside of the window, along with the breeze compelling the trees and its leaves to sway to and fro.

     Time, to him, was an odd concept. If your decisions and other peoples choices were correct, pure even, the flow of time would remain straightforward and without any curves or obstacles to strike you off the path to happiness and excellence. Yet, there was always that one thing that everyone did that made time jerk off it's map and go for a detour. Maybe the fatalities of the many soldiers lost in battle was his fault, or another person. Perhaps it wasn't his fault, or maybe it was all because of him. He didn't want to loiter on the possibilities, just focus on the most vital consequence he had suffered. Her death, for all he knew, could have had nothing to do with him. Yet he still somehow felt responsible.

     Time was of the essence, and maybe him pondering over her tragic death was throwing him off of his course. Since he had lost his only reason to live, all was dumb and dull, he simply flowed with the river, no longer a rock in the stream as a stubborn blockade. Dragging his tongue over his incision-laced lips, he once again felt that chilly breath of wind brush against his shoulder, as if beckoning him back to the warmth of the mattress. Maybe it was her, telling him not to worry as much, and to get some well-deserved rest. So he listened, and reluctantly crawled back into the bed, drawing the blankets back over his body.


     Once the wheels of time began churning, he'd see her once again.