Sacrifice (Levi X Reader)

Chapter Three: Let's Talk

Forcing my eyes to adjust to the bright light, I roll out of bed to answer the alarm that is a brisk knock at my door. I trip over numerous items and try to rub the pain in my head away. Upon opening the door I find Levi standing there in a grey long-sleeved shirt that clings to his body, outlining his physique perfectly. His jet-black jeans fit incredibly well too. Damn it. Each time that I see him I swear I fall deeper and deeper in love.

       "You look like a disaster," he says bitterly.

       I tilt my head up slightly, even though myself and everyone else calls him the short captain he's slightly taller than me. I stand at a solid height of five feet.

       I rub the sleep from my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Time for us to talk," he bites. "Get dressed and meet me in my office in ten minutes."

       He walks away and I close the door. My headache spread to behind my eyes and has begun to cause my temples to throb. Looking over at the table I see the empty bottles from last night and groan.

       "I really over did it," I mumble to myself.

       Standing in front of my open wardrobe I scan my options of what I should wear. Considering our Regiment is on suspension and we are still waiting on other squads to arrive, I decide to take advantage of the fact that we don't have to be in uniform until Erwin says otherwise.

I grab my F/C long sleeved dress and a pair of knee high brown boots. The dress stops half way down thighs. I've never been a fan of the long sacs most women dress in. It doesn't make sense. My mother always tells me that I dress scandalously. Modesty has never been my forte.

Once I brush my hair and teeth, I pinch my cheeks in the mirror to add a little bit of color. Hopefully the forced blush will take away from the luggage I'm carrying underneath my eyes.

I stand outside of Levi's office and take a few deep breaths before raising my hand to knock. A stern, "Enter," responds and I twist the handle.

       Levi is poised behind a large mahogany desk with a stack of papers neatly sitting in front of him and a pen in hand. There are two teacups and a pot with steam rising from the spout sitting on a tray off to the side of his desk. He looks up and half-waves, beckoning me to sit opposite of him.

       "How's your head?" He asks as I take a seat.

       I watch as his hands scratch the tip of the pen across the page. I'm not sure what the documents are but he's placing his signature at the bottom after he reads each one. Even from here, I can see how precise and beautiful his penmanship is.

       "Y/N?" He looks up from the page and stares coldly at me.

       "I should be fine in an hour." I feel the heat rush to my face.

He places his pen down and stands up. He picks up the tea kettle and begins to fill the cup furthest away from him then the one in front of where he stands. He hands one of the white ceramic cups to me.

"It's peppermint," he says curtly. "It should help a little bit with you headache." He walks around to the front of his desk, holding the rim of his cup in the odd way he does and leans back against the desk.

I take a small sip of the hot liquid, careful not to spill any on myself. "So what did you want to talk about?" I bring my eyes up to his captivating grey ones.

"Phillip."

I gulp, mentally pleading that we talk about anything else. "What about him?" I force more of the drink down my throat.