𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 - 𝟎𝟎𝟕
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐘
masterlist levi x reader
You wake up in the late hours of the morning, the sun already high and bright, caressing your skin and bathing the almost clinical room with a warm glow. The house is alive with people setting up, making last minute trips to make sure everything is ready before guests start arriving. The clutter of pans and pots and the soft chatter can be heard from the room you’re in. No one even thought to wake you up. You don’t know whether to feel thankful, or like a waste of space. Guess both can exist at the same time.
Rubbing your eyes, you sit up and stretch your limbs, feeling refreshed for the first time in a while. You groan quietly at the stretch, your mind clear. Despite your sleep being interrupted, and not having any of your suppressants, you feel lighter.
Levi’s room is…. bare, to say the least. Simple and rectangular, the double bed you currently lay in is placed in the middle against the wall, with a small nightstand on each side. A clean cigarette tray lays on one of them, and an old lamp on the other. Your curiosity tells you to snoop through one of the drawers, just for a glimpse into the mind of that cryptic man. But your respect for Levi’s privacy outweighs it and you control yourself. Neutral colours make up most of the palette, mahogany wood and the lingering scent of tobacco and ash that’s impossible to get out no matter how hard you scrub the walls. The lack of decorations aside from the few odd paintings makes the already sizeable room feel vast, and your eyes catch on a bookcase pushed into the corner. The only piece of furniture that has some kind of personality, it seems.
You didn’t take him for the kind of guy to read. Not to be stereotypical, but you couldn’t exactly picture such a stoic guy like him curled up in a corner, reading glasses on and his nose buried in a book. It didn’t really suit him. But that only fueled your fascination with the books. Eyes lighting up with newfound interest, you push off the covers, your socked feet padding softly against the floorboards as you make your way over to the collection. The wood is cold, a chill managing to sneak its way through the cotton of your socks and into your skin. You suppress that shiver that tries to run through you. You ignore the wave of lightheadedness that washes over you, used to it. There are various books packed closely together on each shelf, each one different than the next. Thin and thick spines, worn and new covers, various names of authors printed onto them. Some even plain. Numerous classics, a few you recognise, but they aren’t the ones that catch your eye.
In the bottom left corner, a thick, clearly well-used book stays tucked against the wood, the spine bare. No title. Instinctively, your hand reaches out for it. Considering how tightly packed together the books are, it takes you a surprising amount of strength to wedge it out. The cover is as bare as the front, threads fraying and pages sticking out from the side.
The book seems foreboding, some sort of tense, sinister air surrounding it. Goosebumps rise on your arms.
Who are you kidding? It’s just a book. Nothing special about it.
Yet you still find yourself hesitating to open the cover, as if you’ll find something you’ll regret seeing. But something drew you to the book in the first place.
They say curiosity kills the cat.
The toughened cover of the book groans when you pull it open, an eerie sound, and the first thing you see are the telltale signs of pages being ripped straight out of the spine— small tufts of paper clinging to the threads and sticking out awkwardly.
The other side makes you pause. The pages, yellow and crinkled, have unintelligible writing scrawled haphazardly across them. Majority of the words have been scrawled over— blacked out and redacted, yet if you squint hard enough, you can make some of it out.
You only get to read the words ‘soulmate’ and ‘mistake’ before a knock at the door shocks you out of your body.
Fuck.
Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest, racing erratically. Soulmate? Mistake? What does that even fucking mean? What the fuck is this book?
The door shakes slightly with the second knock as more force is put behind it, and you force out an answer.
“I’m indecent!” You yell out, snapping the book closed and shoving it back onto the shelf, using practically all your strength to squeeze it back into that impossibly tight space. You step away from the bookshelf like it personally offended you.
You stand there for a moment, rustling around with your clothes to make it seem like you’re actually changing, before mumbling out a meek ‘come in’.
The door opens, revealing Levi, as striking as ever, the characteristic scowl on his face only slightly softened by sleep. You raise an eyebrow at him, as if questioning why he’s come to interrupt you.
“Everyone’s already up. I heard footsteps in here.” He says flatly.
“Good morning to you too, I guess.” You jest, and only receive a half-assed eye roll in response. “Sorry. Not really a morning person. I’ll make myself useful.”
You step towards the door, towards him, and he find himself wanting to correct you. “That’s not what i meant. Sleep as much as you need.” lingers on the tip of his tongue but he holds it, it’s too personal, too out of character for him to say.
Instead, he keeps quiet and steps to the side, keeping the door open for you to walk past. You flash him an awkward smile and slip past quietly and head downstairs, where you hear the others.
But what you miss is the way his eyes flick over the bookshelf, noticing that the book was placed back in upside down. He mutters a curse under his breath, before shutting the door and following you back downstairs.
………
You’re curled up on the couch in the living downstairs, bundled up in warm clothing and a hot mug of tea clasped between your hands. You’d been tasked with welcoming guests, against your wishes.
Despite insisting to Erwin that you are socially inept and struggle to hold a conversation with someone for longer than five minutes, he insisted that it was endearing and gently pushed you towards the crowd.
The living room was warm and inviting, lit by the crackling fireplace and the soft glow of lamps. The smell of pumpkin pie and roasted turkey hung in the air, making the chilly evening outside feel worlds away.
And here you were. A few idle conversations flowed around you, and you chipped in occasionally to not seem too out of it.
Eren, one of Mikasa’s ‘friends’ (soulmate) had been the first of the guests to arrive, shaggy brown hair pulled back into some sort of bun. He was a bit hard-headed, stubborn as a mule. But he wasn’t a bad guy at heart. Jean and Connie, were new faces that had come in not too long after he did. Connie was a lot less uptight, constantly making stupid remarks and managing to make every serious moment an absolute joke.
You appreciated the distraction. And Jean. Although he clashed heads with Eren a lot, he was a lot more gentle and considerate than his other two companions. Even compared to Sasha, he seemed to be the most normal one.
That was until Armin had walked in. All blonde hair and pink cheeks, so softly spoken and acted like a fucking angel. Then a few more of his friends entered, and you hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to them, like Annie and Reiner, and a tall brunette boy who resided in the corner of the room.
There were others, some of Erwin’s friends, but to be honest, you were hardly paying enough attention to be able to tell them apart, let alone learn their names. You also couldn’t tell if it was because of the lack of suppresants, or the presence of alcohol. You’d been slumped on the couch in the corner for what felt like hours, nursing a drink in your hands and burning a hole into the wall with how hard you were glaring. One look would have been enough to see that you weren’t really feeling the Thanksgiving vibe.
You felt a warm hand brush against your shoulder— lightly, just enough to catch your attention but not enough to startle you.
You still jumped a bit.
“You left my room looking like a fucking tip.”
Looking up, you spotted Levi stood next to the couch, next to you, eyes fixed on a random point ahead of him. He’d changed outfits from when you saw him this morning, you’d noticed. A comfortable pair of straight slacks, and a sweater that screamed autumn, matching the browning leaves and comforting winds outside. Like you, he was also nursing a drink, but without the flushed cheeks you could feel on yourself. The way he managed to always keep composure pissed you off.
“..I didn’t. I made the bed and everything.” You retort, unable to hide the slight pout in your voice. A while after you’d gone downstairs, you’d crept back into his room to leave it absolutely sparkling. You’d heard about his fixtation with cleanliness from Hange and made sure to tidy it up to the best of your abilities to avoid any comments.
Guess that didn’t work.
Deep down, he knew there was nothing wrong with how you left his room. He had wanted to ask you how you slept, but couldn’t bring himself to without feeling… some sort of way. So he defaulted to what was comfortable for him. Which was being an asshole. Even if he’d held his room to his unusually high standards of cleanliness, it wasn’t anyway near as messy as he was making it out to be.
“I left the pills inside the nightstand.” You almost laughed at the way he said it, like it physically pained him to get the words out. Not to mention the random subject change. He brought the drink to his lips, as if to hide his face. What a shame, for it was a pretty one at that.
You’d managed to stop feeling guilty about the pills last night, but shame filled you once again when he brought it up. You’d spent half the night reminding yourself that you’re a good person who doesn’t lie to others. Which clearly wasn’t true.
But there was hardly any other option. Other than telling him. Which wasn’t fucking happening. It was a promise you’d made to yourself after the appointment in which the doctor prescribed the suppressants. You remember the way your heart skipped a beat, or a few, and you finally stopped seeing the world through rose-tinted lenses. Life wasn’t fair, and it was clear that God had favourites. You were not one of them.
You didn’t want the way people viewed you to change, regardless of whether your life was to be cut short or not. You don’t want to be seen as weak or pitiful, and if that meant lying to everyone, even your parents, then you’d do exactly that.
Despite how understanding Levi had been with the insomnia, you could see he was clearly at his limits. He was probably only understanding of it because he clearly has it himself. He couldn’t even look you in the eye when talking about it to you. Obviously, it was a struggle for him to be this out of his shell. And you’d rather not push him any further, and end up causing a problem.
He’s still an asshole.
“Thanks.” You murmur, swirling the drink in your hands. The slight buzz you felt wasn’t enough to mask how out of place you felt at this gathering, and it had barely even started.
Levi skulked off before you could even think to say anything more, and you inwardly groan at the absurdity of the situation. You allow yourself to lay eyes upon his lithe frame as he disappears into the crowd, the black crop of hair fading away into the distance. You felt the last of your energy fade away with it.
You forced yourself to slowly ease back into the conversation. At least until the food came. Then you could make up some excuse about the food making you sleepy and then clock out.
To your left, there was a sudden cacophony of noise.
“Shit!” Jean groaned, whilst Eren roared with victory. The others erupted, everyone having been on their toes after an intense game of Ludo had ended up with those two knobheads as the final players, which was clearly not a good idea in hindsight.
Mind you, they were battling for 2nd and 3rd place. Annie had won first over twenty minutes ago and was on the other side of the room, not interested in seeing the ending of the game. Armin had ended up dead last.
Setting your drink down on the table, you plant your feet and rise, walking over to the group. You crouch down next to Mikasa, peeking into the circle from over her shoulder. You watch Eren’s hand sweep over the game board, knocking over the dice and other respective game pieces.
“Really?” You snort.
A dozen of pairs or eyes snap towards you, not realising that you’d joined them.
“Ah, the recluse finally makes her way over!” Connie announces, spreading his arms wide as if the mere idea of you sitting with them was unthinkable.
Mikasa reaches over and flicks his forehead, muttering out a harsh “Stop, Connie.”
“It’s fine. I admit, I’ve not been the most social today.” Resting a hand on Mikasa’s shoulder, you shoot Connie an apologetic look. He flashes you a grin.
“I don’t blame you. These two have been yelling for the past hour over a board game.” Armin says softly from across the circle, a soft smile on his face.
“Just say you’re jealous that you didn’t win.” Eren boasts, “This wimp came last.”
“Well, I’m sure he tried his hardest.” You murmur.
“Stop being a dickhead, Eren. You didn’t win either.” Jean pipes up, still sulking from his earlier loss.
“Shut it, horse face!” The brunette yells back, and before you know it, the two of them are bickering back and forth like kids.
Then, as if on cue, Hange bursts in from the corridor.
“Alright!” She claps her hands together, a mischievous grin on her face. “It’s time for the main event!”
Fucking finally. Your stomach rumbles silently, longing for food to fill it. Naturally, your eyes go behind her, waiting for Erwin or someone else to walk in with a tray filled with delectable treats, but instead, she just squeezes into the circle and plops down on the floor.
It goes silent, save for the sound of Sasha chewing crisps.
“…So?” You question expectantly.
“So what?” She responds.
“Where is the food?” Sasha asks.
“In your hands.” Connie snides, snickering.
“What? The main event isn’t the food, silly. It’s the games!” Hange is almost bursting at the seams with excitement.
“We’ve been playing games for quite a bit now.” A meek voice came from across the circle.
“What, you kids think Ludo is the pinnacle of Thanksgiving games?” She snorted.
“I’m only two years younger than you.” Jean noted.
“Whatever, that’s beside the point.” Hange dismisses him, and you hear the laugh Eren holds back. “What i mean is, it’s time for the drinking games!”
“Surely there are other ways to have fun without trying to get half of the group blackout drunk, Hange.” Erwin chastises, strolling into the already bustling room with ease.
“If you didn’t already know, she’s unable to have fun without alcohol.” Levi deadpans, following in behind him.
“Aw, c’mon Levi! You know that’s not true!” She slings an arm around him, to which he shoves off almost immediately, scowl deepening.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Alright, alright. Just take a seat so we can get started!”
“I’m not partaking in whatever foolish activity you’ve cooked up.”
“What a party pooper.”
“I’m sure we can still play without him.” You butt in.
Honestly, you just wanted a distraction until the food came out.
Grey eyes flick over to you, harsh and unforgiving. Or at least, that’s what it feels like to be under his gaze. He huffs, rolling his eyes and turning away after a long moment. Air fills your lungs again.
“Of course. We can’t let Mr. Grumpy over here ruin the mood.” Hange insisted.
“So, what do you want to do, then?” Mikasa asks.
“Never Have I Ever!” She gushed.
“Does it look like we are still in secondary school?” Levi drawled, to which Hange decided to pointedly ignore.
“Rules are, we each take a turn saying an experience. For example, having sex outside of the bedroom! Those who have done it must drink, and feel free to give us a little story time. Others are let off the hook. Simple, right?” She announced.
“Sounds easy enough.” Jean replies. “Is everyone down?”
“I’m in.” You say.
“Me too.” Sasha says around a mouthful of crisps.
“Me three.” Connie chips in.
“Alright. Who’s going first?”
“New girl.” Eren says expectantly.
You pause.
“…Me?” You question.
“Yeah, you.”
You hadn’t realised that was what he thought of you as. New girl?
“Sure. Well… never have i ever broken a bone?” You hesitated.
“Keeping it tame, I see.” Connie hums.
“Well, it’s always good to start off the game nicely.” Armin comes to your defence.
“Sorry. Was that a bad one?”
“It was perfect!” Hange grabs her glass, taking a large swig of whatever concoction she made. Erwin also drinks, and so does Sasha.
“The rest of you have never broken a bone before? I kind of expected everyone to drink for this one.” You wonder aloud.
“What, so you admit you’re trying to get us drunk?” Jean teases.
“That’s not what I meant!” You faltered.
“Breaking a bone is a skill issue.” Connie declared smugly, earning a few looks.
“Thats rich coming from you.” Mikasa retorts calmly.
“What’s that meant to mean?” He pouts.
“Next!” Eren barks. “I’ll go.”
You roll your eyes, and let the conversation fade out. Almost instinctively, your gaze finds Levi from across the room. Unlike everyone else, he sits on a couch nearby, refraining from sitting on the floor. A look of annoyance is plastered on his face, but if you knew any better, you would dare to think that there was a bit of amusement hidden somewhere in there.
“You’re a fucking virgin, dickhead!” Eren barks.
You’re unsure of how the conversation went from the game to this, but you stifle a laugh anyway.
“That’s not the point! Mikasa only popped your cherry out of pity.” Connie piped up.
“She did not pop my fucking cherry.”
“Does Eren argue with anyone about anything?” You mumble, and Mikasa simply nods, used to his antics.
“Alright! Shut up, I’ve got a good one!” Sasha beams, and the two of them shut up.
A beat.
“Well?” Erwin asks.
“Never have I ever gone farther than kissing in a car.” Sasha teases.
“Jean, drink right now.”
“What the fuck, Connie?” Jean’s face turned bright red in an instant. “He’s lying.”
“I’m not!”
“How the fuck did horseface hit it in a car?” Eren moans, clearly unimpressed.
“…How did you even know, Connie?” Armin asks.
“Connie, shut your—“
“I was coming back to our flat after a long night out, but then I notice that one of the cars outside had the lights on inside, and it was kind of bouncing.”
“Scandalous!” Hange chirps.
“So naturally, I went closer. The windows were all fogged up, so they couldn’t see me approaching and I couldn’t see them. I wiped the backseat window, and…..”
“…..”
“Jean was eating someone out!”
The room immediately erupts, sounds of embarrassment and denial from Jean who had somehow became even redder, mocking laughs from Connie and Sasha, and concerned looks from Armin and Mikasa. Hange’s jaw dropped, and you even heard a scoff from Levi.
“I must say Jean, I didn’t take you for that kind of guy.” Erwin muses.
“I respect the hustle, Jean.” Hange claps a hand on his shoulder, which he immediately pushes off.
“Connie is just making up damn stories.” He retorts.
“Connie may be an idiot, but he never lies.” Eren grins wickedly, clearly relishing in his frenemy’s humiliation.
“You want to get loud Eren? Fucking fine. Never have I ever been pity-fucked by my childhood best friend just so that I wouldn’t be a virgin.” Jean sneers.
“It wasn’t a damn pity-fuck!” Eren roars, and you almost burst out in laughter at the look on his face.
“So you admit it happened?” You grin, and Eren shoots you a deathly glare.
“Well, Mikasa. Anything to say?” Hange prods.
“Why’d you assume it was me?” Mikasa deadpans, nonchalant as ever, and immediately, all eyes flick over to Armin.
He immediately straightens up, cheeks turning pink. “I-It wasn’t me!”
“Right….” Connie murmurs.
Erwin clears his throat. “I have one.”
“Alright!” Armin says, eager to change the topic.
“Never have I ever left in the middle of a date.” He says.
Quite a few people life their cups on this one— Connie tilts his head back, downing the whole thing, Mikasa sips on her cup, and to your surprise—
“Levi?” You blurt out.
“What?” He snaps, throat bobbing as he swallows his drink.
“I thought you said you weren’t playing?” Hange teases, leaning in.
He flicks her forehead, clearly annoyed.
“Well? Details.” Connie asks, and Levi clicks his tongue.
“Unimportant.”
“Levi, that’s the point of the whole game.”
“Fuck’s sake. She was a messy eater. Dropped half her spoonful on the restaurant table and then proceeded to scoop it back up and eat it.”
“…I thought everyone did that.” Jean mumbled.
“Shut up, ass-eater.” Eren pipes up.
“Do you know how fucking dirty restaurants tables are? They clean that shit with the same sloppy rag they use to clean the fucking toilet seats.” He almost visibly recoils at the memory, lip curling in distaste.
You giggle a little, hiding your face behind your glass. His eyes dart to you, but not as cold as before. He looks away before you can think on it too much.
The chatter of the game and lively festival spirit soon blur into one, and the buzz of the drink you’re nursing gets a bit louder. Despite the food being brought in by Erwin only moments ago, you quietly excuse yourself.
Standing up from your cross-legged position you make your way out of the living area, unbeknownst to Levi’s gaze which follows you as you walk out. You cringe slightly, your initial plan had not been to leave this early. But you’d been caught up in the game, as did the rest of the people there. As much as you’d like to deny it, you had a lot of fun. Social activities normally drain you, but it felt like the opposite when you were with this group.
But you don’t want to insert yourself where you aren’t wanted. For all you know, they could’ve just decided to be polite since it was Thanksgiving, a one time thing. When you all return to school, you were one hundred percent sure that you’d find yourself on the sidelines again.
Whatever. No point dwelling on it.
You head upstairs quietly, the boisterous chatter in the living room getting fainter as you get further away. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you take a a deep breath.
But then you pause.
In the mirror, you see yourself. Obviously. But the image you were seeing reflected in the mirror wasn’t one that you’d seen in over a year. You looked…. lively. To say the least. Granted, your skin was still a bit dull-looking, and the eyebags under your eyes were still there, but they looked natural, like the genetic ones. Not the stress induced ones.
Was this because you stopped taking the suppressants?
No, that doesn’t make any sense.
Those are meant to make you feel better, so why on earth would you look healthier after not taking them? Ever since you got the official diagnosis from your doctor about your unusual condition, there hasn’t been a day that you haven’t downed atleast 2 pills.
You know all those sketchy conspiracy theories, like ‘What if oxygen was actually just poison the kills us slowly?’
That’s what you felt like right now.
A sharp knock on the door shocks you out of your train of thoughts.
“Hurry up. I need to take a shit.” A familiar, gruff voice comes through.
You scoff, turning around and unlockjng the door before pulling it open to be met with an unbothered looking Levi.
“What, was the game that intense?” You jest.
“It was boring as fuck. And you were in here for over 15 minutes. Could tell you weren’t using anything.”
“Why? Are you an expert on bowel movements? You seem to have some sort of fixation.” You grin.
You swear you see the corner of his lip tilt up slightly, but you don’t have the chance to process it before he lets out a soft “Tch.” and walks past you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Guess he’s not in the mood to talk, then.
You take in a deep breath and head towards the room you slept in last night. His room. Pushing open the door, you’re reminded of how it’s so distinctively….. Levi. If that even makes sense.
The smell, the look, the furniture, the vibe, everything. It’s like a piece of him. It feels as if you’re intruding on something private. Which you kind of are, technically. But… he’s letting you. You hadn’t really put much thought to it. The fact that he’s letting you sleep in his room.
Other than the fact that any decent person would do it, Levi is clearly a very private person. So you feel a bit more grateful that he’s allowing you this comfort.
You lie on the floor, staring up at the ceiling as you allow the hard planes of the wood to provide a semblance of comfort to your aching muscles. You’ve learnt to block out the pain, it’s been over a year that you’ve had to deal with it. But the second that the noise quietens down, that you’re alone and behind closed doors again, there’s nothing to distract you from the agony.
And the worst thing is, the pain isn’t all physical. It’s hard to explain, but there’s a deep, emotional pain that lingers costantly at the bottom of your heart. You know what it is. This yearning, for your second half. It is frustrating. Why can’t your body simply just handle life on its own? Why must it need some stupid counterpart, just to not self destruct?
And the worst thing is, majority of people your age haven’t found their soulmates either. Most people find theirs in their late 20s. After they’ve found themselves, their identity, who they truly are. You’ve never had that luxury. It was snatched from under your feet that fateful day you first felt the pain in your chest.
It’s so constant, so immanent that you wonder if you would feel incomplete without it. The pain.
You don’t realise that you’re crying until salt starts to prick at your tongue, tears skimming your lips. You raise your hands and wipe them away furiously, fed up with everything.
You turn your head to the side, met with a clear view under the bed. Not a speck of dust. You almost laugh, at how uncanny and unusually clean this guy’s room was. And then your eyes catch on something. A small black box, underneath the bedframe. You would’ve thought that it slipped there unintentionally, but with the way it was pushed under, into the corner, it was clear that it wasn’t.
You were more hesistant to poke around this morning, the bookshelf in the corner still seemed to be taunting you. But you weren’t going to waste any time now.
Rolling onto your front, you stuck your arm under the bed and waved it around wildly, until your fingers brushed against the small, velvet box. You pulled it out and sat up, cradling the item in your hands. It looked… precious. You had no idea as to why it would be shoved under the bed. The velvet covering was soft and plush, and you could tell that despite its unusual location, it had been taken out and looked after often.
Gently, you press your fingers against the front and pry it open.
Huh. It’s empty.
Your met with the sight of the bottom of the box, seemingly empty. Confusion was evident on your face. Why would it be empty? Maybe whatever was in it was taken out recently.
But then, you pause again.
The floor of the box was slightly uneven, as if there was something pushing up against it from underneath. Wiggling your pinky finger into the corner, you try your hardest to try and pry off the fake bottom. Eventually, it gives.
There’s a small, dainty necklace that lays against the plush velvet, almost protected by its furs. The chain is thin, but you can tell it’s been made with an expensive material. You eyes run along the chain, until you see a locket in the shape of a clover.
You chew on your lip nervously. There’s clearly something personal in there. At first, you were just expecting to find something embarrassing, like a diary of some sort. But even just looking at the locket sent a deep sense of something ambiguous into your chest. But you’d gone too far just to chicken out.
With the utmost care, you carefully open the locket. Inside, is a photo of a woman. She has striking, wise grey eyes, which almost feel as if you’re looking into the sky during a storm. Her face is kind, yet to be touched by the cruel hands of time. She looks young. Too young to have been dead, you realise. Your eyes flick over to the other side of the locket, reading the message enscribed.
“Do not trust what they call fate.”
A deep, sudden chill settled deep in your bones. You were expecting something sweeter, such as “Gone too soon”, or “Forever in our hearts”.
But this?
This felt foreboding. Like some sort of warning. You knew that you weren’t meant to see this, yet at the same time it felt like it was directed at you. There was no context, but you knew exactly what that message meant. And that was what unsettled you.
Heart pounding, you close the locket shove it back into the velvet box with half the care you did it with earlier, and slide it under the bed. You climb into the bed and pull the covers up to your chin, and stare at the ceiling. You took deep breaths, but your heart wouldn’t stop racing.
You were scared. Because your entire world had just collapsed with mere message.
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