Levi X Reader One Shots - I

Mother's Day

Since it's Mother's Day here today, so another update!

Something I wrote long ago, from this art that I saw once and today seemed like the perfect occasion to post it.

~hari

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"Levi?"

Oh.

So he was in here after all.

She had been searching for him, he didn't show up in the mess hall for dinner, so she'd just bought a plate for him knowing that he'd still be there in his office working on his overload of paperwork.

He lay there on the sofa, asleep. His neck was turned upwards in an uncomfortable position, his brow creased together, his lips parted emitting soft low breaths. She smiled, faintly, seeing his sleeping form was always endearing; considering the man never got to chance to rest properly it was a sight to behold.

She walked closer, to the dim glow of the candlelight. His uniform was haphazard, collars straightened upwards and a few buttons undone. His hand rested on his stomach and his other hand was dropped limply down the couch. Her gaze followed his limp hand, fingers hanging a few inches short of the ground when a few papers lying there caught her eye. She crouched down carefully, so as not to disturb him. Picking the fallen papers, she bought them closer to her eyesight. Only to find they were pictures; more like hyper realistic drawings.

One was of a blonde guy with a smile and a very excited red haired girls with pigtails.

One was of a man, with scratchy beard, and a hat covering his head.

And the last one... it was a lady

She couldn't recognise her, but she bore a resemblance with him. Her onyx hair, her straight nose, soft and highlighted cheekbones, jawline and those gun metal hues, were unmistakably similar to Levi's.

Oh

Her eyes trailed to his sleeping form, realisation hitting her. And suddenly, the half-dries tears near his eyes were visible, his cheeks stained with them. The bags under his eyes seemed to appear more prominent, and swollen.

Her chest ached physically, as she carefully kept those photos aside on the table. She was smart enough to know that these people meant everything to this stoic man, maybe they were his friends, and the last one, she was sure that the beautiful lady was his mother.

Carefully settling beside his couch, she blew the candles, engulfing the room in darkness except for the trace of shining moonlight. Then, she reverently grabbed his limp hand, intertwining her fingers with his own calloused ones. Her eyes were turning misty as she held his hand, resting her head near his hips on the sofa, holding him close as she possibly could. She didn't care what he'd say to her when he woke up, she knew he had probably relaxed her presence so close by now considering his sharp perceptive skills. But she didn't care one bit. He was hurting, he needed someone to hold onto.

He had barely come out today, not even for training and meals, she suspected it was because he spent too much times with the pictures. Of his mother.

After all, it was Mother's Day.