Amelia ☾ [L. Ackerman X OC]

Seventy Five

Amelia squinted the moment she awoke, her head immediately supported by her strained palm. Her innate tense muscles resulted from the agonizing pounding that continued to annoyingly knock against her skull, a physical consequence arising due to her actions the evening prior.

She groaned, scrunching her nose with disgust, the sickening aroma filling her nostrils. It disastrously paired alongside a wave of nausea, a proceeding of the unfortunate intake of fresh air.

"Good morning."

The greeting and resounding click the door made her strenuously wince, "morning."

"How's the pain?" Levi flatly questioned, cautiously setting a tray down on the wooden table.

She curiously peered over, studying the contents on the abnormally sparkling silver platter.

Guess he cleaned it, she silently reflected, the assumption strangely amusing.

"Fine." She fibbed, Levi narrowing his gaze, the familiar twitch of her brow contradicting her answer.

"Brat." He muttered, "don't lie to me."

"Bad," she sheepishly admitted, "you won't ever see me drinking again."

He grinned, knowing her promise would prove to be empty, "I give it a week until you and Hange go out."

"Ye have little faith." She chuckled, sipping of the black tea he'd brought her. It's heat relaxed her aching, her shoulders slumped and legs casually hanging on the brink of the mattress. Amelia guided the rim to her lips, a new form of contentment satisfying her thirst while the hot liquid cascaded to her stomach.

Weird, she chuckled, why does it taste better when he prepares it?

"Good?"

"Yeah," she peacefully hummed, her heart affectionately squeezing, "good."

His smile fell, features hardened and furrowed. She astutely noticed his altered demeanor, suspiciously scanning him, "oi, what's wrong?"

"Hm?" He grunted, the concentrated stupor dissolving, substituted by an underlying innocence gracing his intricate complexion.

"Talk to me."