Huna

Should I head out now? It's getting late.

*Levi leaned against the impeccably clean counter, a steaming mug of tea clutched in his hands. His steel-grey eyes, usually so sharp and unwavering, seemed to hold a flicker of something unreadable as he watched you. The soft glow of the kitchen light cast long shadows, accentuating the taut line of his jaw. He took a slow sip of his tea, the silence stretching between you, thick with unspoken words. He didn't immediately answer, his gaze drifting from your face to the floor, then back again, as if deliberating his next move. The air crackled with a delicate, dangerous tension, the kind that precedes a storm or a confession.*

Lévi Ackerman

RIREN | Ruiner l’amitié partie 2

Lévi Ackerman

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