Scars (Levi X Reader)

~A/N: Listen to this as you read! www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6ip3X… ~

A cascade of amber light shone on his features, tracing every dip and curve he held. The deep orange of the sky was no match to his dark grey orbs. They swiveled with emotions too powerful for words, thoughts too complex to explain. His lips were pressed into a firm line, refusing to let anything escape. The wind teased with the ends of his raven hair, allowing them to drift back and forth with an almost hypnotic rhythm.

A soft smile made its way up to your lips as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. You often did this with him, gaze out the window that overlooked the trees. It was almost as if you could see everything. Of course, until the walls blocked your view. The small amount of time you spent at the window with him seemed to relax all the tension that built up in his mind.

Although, today it seemed like he wasn’t relaxing as much. If anything, he was thinking more. It worried you a bit, the way his knuckles gripped the windowsill until they turned white as you simply leaned against it, back facing the glass. He didn’t seem to notice your gaze fixed on him; he was far too intrigued by the sun and his own thoughts.

You tilted your head to the side, a few strands of hair slipping away from where it was tucked behind your ear. “You okay?” you whispered.

He hummed in response, eyes not leaving the perfectly clear glass of the window. You scanned his face once again. There was a faint crease between his eyebrows, and his eyes were slightly narrowed. You reached forward, brushing the back of your hand against his cheek. “Relax a little bit, okay?”

His eyes trailed from your hand, to your arm, your shoulder, your chin, then finally to your eyes. He nodded, fixing his gaze back outside. You let your thoughts meld over, attempting to figure out what to do. A mischievous grin formed onto your lips as you walked behind him. You let your fingers tease the end of his shirt, slowly tugging it up. Levi swiftly turned around, pulling his shirt back down.

“What’re you doing?” he asked. His eyes were widened as he held the shirt close to his form.

You quirked up an eyebrow at him. “I was going to give you a massage. You look really tense,” you explained. You reached out once again for his shirt.

He pulled away, crossing his arms. “No, I’m fine,” he muttered.

You smiled. “Levi, it’s fine. I just want to rub your back a little, I’m not doing anything else.”

“Just leave it be, okay?”

You gave him a soft glare. “Come on, Levi. Just let me help you a little.”

He shook his head defiantly, facing the window again. You pursed your lips, staring down at the floor. Your eyes darted back up as you hummed thoughtfully. Without another seconds hesitation,  you reached forward and hauled his shirt up. You didn’t hear when he fiercely called your name. You were more mesmerized by what was hidden underneath the clothing.

Long scars decorated every inch of his muscled back. Some were a light, faded pink, while others were a dark red. A single long, thick one ran from his shoulder blade, disappearing into the hem of his white pants. Some were slanted, while others were jagged with uneven ends. It was a horrifying painting on a canvas.

His breaths were shallow, uneven. He seemed almost afraid. “Did… titans do this?” you whispered.

Levi licked his lips, staring down at the polished wood of the floor. “Titans don’t leave scars, do they?”

It had almost slipped your mind that Levi wasn’t always a part of the military. Of course not, his story was one of the best of the Survey Corps. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought of people jabbing knifes into his flesh.

“I didn’t want you to see it,” he murmured.

“Why not?” you responded.

His breath hitched before he got a chance to reply. You lightly brushed your hand over the long scar, feeling it’s rough texture against the pad of your fingers. “They’re… ugly,” he finally managed.

“They’re just symbols of the past, that’s all. And although the past might be ugly… these symbols aren’t. They’re just scars,” you said. He was silent, processing your words. You, in turn, traced every scratch, memorizing their pattern, position and placement.

Levi continued staring out the window, though he focused on your touch. So soft and gentle, a caring and compassionate brush that treated him like a delicate flower. He stiffened when your lips pressed against the long one running from his shoulder down to his hip, right in the middle.

You pulled away, tugging the shirt back over the scars. You wrapped your arms about his torso, pressing your forehead to his shoulder blade. “Maybe if I kiss it, it’ll make it better.”

He chuckled at your childish notion, turning to snake his arms around your waist. “I’ll fix your scars,” you said, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. “All of them. Even the ones I can’t see.”

Levi hummed thoughtfully, placing his chin atop your head. “Good luck,” he murmured.