Your lie (Levi • Reader)

68. Pretty into who?

...The sound of a sole, writing pen stuffed the emptiness of the room..

Sun rays touched your lids, feathers caressing your skin tenderly.
You stretched and rubbed your eyes, letting your body slacken wearily in the bed again.

A sweet scent flattered your nose in a play, making it tingle.
You smiled gingerly, before opening your eyes.

They widened at once.

In shock, they estimated how late it had to be from the position of the sun outside.

Oh no.

I am late.

Instantly, you jumped out of the bed.

Which wasn't even yours?!

Where am I?, you asked yourself, before realising one moment later.
I am in Levi's room.

And today is my free day.

But still.
How did I even get inside of the bed? I fell asleep on the chair...
Your look wandered to it.

Oh no, I fell asleep.

You blinked confused.
So he put me here.
And I'm not dead...

Was this warmth in your tummy some kind of relief?

While perceiving the place, you saw a table with food on the desk.
Nobody, except you, was in the room either.

Still barefoot, you walked toward it.
There was a potato soup and a whole loaf of bread placed right in front of his seat.
Is this for me?

You cautiously tried to find a note or something else, which indicated the purpose of the meal, by looking under the plate and beside it.
But nothing.

Did he put it here for me, knowing I'd be too late for breakfast?
You smiled at the thought, but brushed it away quickly.

That's... kind of nice of him, I guess.

Suspiciously, you tried to smell and find an indicator of putrescence, but there was nothing, that actually reeked like rotten.

So you cozily sat down onto his chair and took the bowl into your hand, before starting to eat.

Meanwhile, you got goosebumps from the fresh air entering through the open window, so you pulled your legs and arms nearer to your body.

After being ready, you folded the sheets, took the tableware and went away.

-

Once in your own room, you immediately noticed something being different.

First, there was Ymir, who was scolding through your clothes gruellingly, with a big frown on her face.

As you walked in, she looked at you in bare stress.

You sceptically watched her.
"...Ymir?"

Her grimly:
"Hm?!"

"Can I help you?"

"Do you have anything good-looking in here?
Everything seems so... mawkish and tasteless."

You, amused:
"I don't know what's supposed to be mawkish in oversized pants and hoodies..."

"Meh, they still aren't my style.", she observed them critically.

"First...", you walked over to her to gain her attention.
"They're not supposed to be your style."
You took the dress out of her hands carefully.
"Second, they're not even your size."