His Wounded Heart Beats For One (Levi x Reader Fanfiction)

1: Charon's Ferry

Hello readers!

Just a warning, there's several bits of icky medical gore described in this fic. That'll happen when the main character is a nurse. Be ready folks.

I hope you enjoy!

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The suitcase looks horribly bare, especially for a week-long trip. Its interior lining is the color of worn paper, just as bland and worn as the clothes inside. Two sets of your uniforms are folded neatly within, cotton baby blue dresses that have already faded in the single year you've owned them. Fortunately, the white apron atop them is still pristinely pure thanks to incessant cleaning, providing at least a hint of cleanliness to your completed work outfit.

These, along with just a few pieces of casual clothing, create a nest for your cloth satchel of toiletries. Beside them, a filled shoe bag is situated carefully in the corner of the luggage case, your paperwork and wallet beside it and two books beneath. The absolute minimum, to be sure, but the hospital will provide a majority of your necessities anyway.

Besides, it's good to save room for anything you might pick up in Shiganshina. Sometimes patients scrap together small gifts for their caretakers, offers you won't dare turn down. In unlikely cases, charitable family members of the afflicted come bearing presents or donations for the working staff, anything from simple flowers to surprisingly decent sums of money. It's best to save room for such a possibility.

You close the small luggage case, flicking shut the brownish metal latches on its seam. The leathery surface of the box is so brittle, a complete disintegration of your suitcase felt possible at any moment. Perhaps you'll pick up a new one in your destination district, if work allows time for that sort of leisure.

Grasping the handle and sliding it off your rickety bed, you cringe at the dust it's left on your white sheets. The case hasn't been used for a while, but you didn't think it would gather this much dirt in its time in your attic. It had, though, and now you're held up for another few minutes as you clean off the bed that wasn't to be occupied for several days.

Having finally dusted off your own bed and the exterior of your suitcase, you give the darling little bedroom once last look-over before leaving, shutting the wooden door and clearing any sunlight from the hallway you now traverse through.

Wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet as you drift through the second story of your house, passing just a few doors before descending to the main floor. The air is still, as quiet as always but now tinged with the somber feeling of abandonment, like your home is growing depressed over the notion of you leaving. There's no other being to bid you farewell besides the sunken cushions of your sofa and the empty coat rack standing at attention adjacent to the door you're to exit through.

Well, you aren't that dejected about leaving. It's only for a week, and you won't be leaving much behind. Not at your house, at least. The only real human being that will miss your absence is across the river.

Reminded of your mission, you pry one of the main double-doors open, allowing the dim light of the morning to pour inside. "Bye," you say to nobody as you head outside.

Your shoes tap lightly on the cobblestone foundation surrounding your house before meeting the dirt of the ground just beyond. Your home is right on the edge of the river that cuts through Trost District, part of the tiny sliver of land that the waterway keeps separated from the main town. As if that isn't secluded enough, your home is the southernmost building on the sliver, nestled tightly between the river and the massive Walls looming over the town. These Walls deny the pleasure of soothing morning sunlight, engulfing your entire community in a shadow that won't be erased until later in the day.