Worrisome Heart (Levi X Reader)

~A/N: PLEASE Listen As You Read! www.infinitelooper.com/?v=6ZWs…
Includes Slight Sexual Content. All Characters Are Over The Age Of 20.~















    You stood silently by the window, arms crossed over your chest as you trained your gaze onto his figure in the darkness.

    Although he stood in the shadows, the pale moonlight trickling into the room contoured his body perfectly, revealing the dips and curves of his muscular abdomen and the way his arms flexed with even the smallest movement. The locks hanging over his forehead represented a colour so black it was blue, and the ashen grey his eyes usually shone became a reflective sterling silver. His brows knitted together ever so slightly with concentration, enough to still keep his permanent stoic expression, yet simultaneously enough for you to notice. He was a man that would have awed Thor, and all he was doing was folding the shirt he had previously pulled off himself.

    The only thing off about him...

    The scars on his back made your nerves flutter ceaselessly as if they were a hummingbird's wings. They weren't just scars, they were deep, grotesque lacerations that were born from hatred. They were jagged, asymmetrical, not the smooth lines that you had witnessed on other soldiers. Some were a faded a maroon, others a bright red, and very few had faded into a dull tan. The moonlight seemed to highlight these features as well as it sculpted his body.

    He never talked about them, he never acknowledged their existence, but he was aware of every time your gaze fell onto him when he wasn't watching.

    Your indefatigable concern for his well-being didn't remain silent, even if you never audibly spoke of it. You always made sure he was stable with subtle eye contact, your hand ghosting over his, even making him a cup of tea in the morning and wishing him a good day. And in return he would always assure you that he was at peace, content with himself, even if he wasn't he couldn't stand seeing you worry so much about him.

    Seeing the scars on his back again only made you feel worse. You didn't want him to ever suffer through such excruciating pain again.

    His murmuring of your name broke you out of a trance, and you realized you were staring directly and quite plainly at the scars. You brought your gaze upwards and away from his back swiftly, straightening yourself up and taking a deep breath as you met his piercing silver hues. One of his eyebrows were quirked as he gave you a knowing stare, holding his folded shirt in his hand as he studied your sheepish figure.

    He didn't even glance to the spot you were staring at between his shoulder blades, he knew what you had been watching.

    Breaking eye contact, he moved over to a dresser against the wall, now facing you full-back rather than profile, scars now more in view than ever before. "You worry too much," he said softly, setting the shirt down.

    "How can I not?" you responded, crossing your arms tighter over your form as you leaned against the windowsill, attempting to ignore his cicatrices by fascinating yourself with the dark wooden floors.

    A thick silence hung in the atmosphere as you waited for him to speak, and he seemed to be doing the exact same. You could practically feel the gears and cogs in your mind turning as you attempted a thought-out and structured response. Yet as your lips parted to utter your intelligent reply, you only stuttered what first came to mind.

    "I love you."









    Your eyes came up once more to meet his. He stood full front, arms crossed, scrutinizing you from across the room with his sharp silver hues. The moonlight molded perfectly with the shadows to chisel his bare torso to near picture-perfection. His expression remained apathetic, yet his eyes pooled with infatuation and awe. His tongue dragged over his lips slowly as he uncrossed his arms, and began slowly but steadily moving towards you, each step in a methodical beat.

    You inhaled sharply.

    He took a step.

    You exhaled slowly.

    Another step.

    His gaze remained latched onto yours.

    Step.

    His lips parted slightly as if he were to speak, but he stopped himself before he uttered a sound.

    He stood in front of you now, arms by his side, and body inches away. His hands twitched as if they wanted to touch you, yet he withheld himself, and merely kept his visage expressionless with the exception of amusement glimmering in his eyes at your anxious state. Finally, he raised his hand to cup your cheek, and wrapped the other about your waist, eyes fluttering diffidently down to your lips. He deftly kissed you, feeling your rosy lips touch his pale ones for a mere a second before he pulled away, only to reconnect by leaning his forehead against yours and closing his eyes.

    "I love you too."

    Your eyes opened and met his as a beaming smile dusted your countenance and a breathy, almost relieved laughter escaped your esophagus. Your lips touched once again, slightly more feverish as you exhaled all your worries into the space between the two of you, a space rapidly dissipating once he pressed himself closer to you. As he gently and carefully executed each touch, your mind grew hazy with lust and you raked your nails down his chest, savoring the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips and the satisfying rose-tinted streaks marking the path of your nails.

    The only scars you would ever cause him would counteract the hatred on his back, and be upon his chest, inspired by love.