Levi had spent the remainder of his afternoon off on his own, after telling Commander Erwin that he would be 'training'. He had, in fact, been technically in the training hall, but he wasn't convinced that Erwin would consider beating the training dummy to a pulp in an attempt to alleviate his pent up aggression, to the point where he had smashed the thing in two, to be real 'training'.
His anger came from a place of irritation. Firstly, at Arlert - the way that boy followed Kiki around like a lost puppy irked him to no end. Secondly, at Kiki herself, still holding onto his anger at her comment about Petra... and, leading on from that, at himself for having let it get to him so badly. Kiki hadn't been wrong: Petra was dead. There was no changing that, and there never would be. Perhaps the comment wouldn't have touched such a nerve if anyone else in the Corps had dared to confront Levi about it before? Maybe if Erwin, or even Hanji, had tried to talk to him, hell, even Jaeger... but no one had. Everyone had always considered Levi to be the suffer-in-silence type, and it was true, he was. But he had to admit to himself, deep down, after that loss, he had needed someone. But he kept everyone at a distance, and it was a distance everyone assumed he wanted. And so, the sadness had built and built, until it festered into rage, and unfortunately for Kiki, she was now baring the brunt of it.
After his 'training' and a cold shower, he had retired back to his office, intending on doing some reading, but had found himself sitting at his desk, staring out of his window, that same blank, emotionless expression plastered on his face, letting no one in. He hadn't even noticed the Kiki was in the room until she spoke, snapping him out of his daydream. How long had he been sat there like that?
"Hmm?" he looked down at the plate on his desk and gave a huff and a nod in response, his gaze failing to meet hers. "Uh, yes... yes that'll be all" he replied, turning around fully to pick up his cutlery. His face remained expressionless, but his knuckles began to turn white, gripping his knife and fork so tightly.
