Levi x Reader [ oneshots ]

Cycle

▽Modern AU

△Levi x Abused!Reader

△s/he/they

👸👸👸👸👸👸👸👸👸👸👸👸👸

I unwillingly blinked my eyes open — bit by bit with every movement — just to be greeted by the blinding white ray of sunlight and the annoyingly happy birds feeding each other foods outside my...our window of the apartment we own.

Groaning silently, I sat up as quietly as I could while the memory of yesterday's events started to replay itself in my head, plaguing me with shivers as it usually does. Forcing them back into my system, with steady feet I stood up and headed towards the bathroom without looking back at the body that was sleeping soundly next to me.

I locked the door as slowly as I could to avoid the click being too loud, afraid that it would alarm his sensitive ears and would barge in to continue from where he left off last night in addition with waking him up from his beloved slumber.

I took the First Aid Kit from under the sink cupboard with a weak grip that almost failed me if not for my fast reflexes — giving me a near heart attack in the process — , as I purposely avoid any eye contact with my form in the mirror, afraid of the reaction I would have from looking at the damages done.

I was hesitant.

I didn't want to rise up from my crouching position from the pristine bathroom at all. Every morning after he snaps, I would repeat this same routine — as if I was trapped in a bad time lapse that wouldn't cease and continue forward — and I would repeat it in fear, anguish and self-hate ; but I knew I couldn't stay on the floor forever — as much as I wanted to just blend into it — , I had to get up and face my problems and one of them definitely was treating my wounds without making a single sound to which I have somewhat mastered.

Although, it's something I shouldn't have in the first place but what's done is done.

Shutting my eye lids as I stand up with the box in my hand, I was mentally preparing myself for what I was about to see and also as a silent prayer that it wouldn't be as bad as the last time. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, I reluctantly opened my eyes slowly as they adjust to capture the image in front of me.

Dark blue mixed with a deep purple was littered all over my skin — from my collarbones to the apple of my cheeks — , a dark circle ringed my left eye socket as it is inflamed too, and save the best for last, a large and very noticeable cut on the right of my lower lip was decorated with dried blood clot covering it.

A silent gasp ruptured as I observe my pathetically battered self. Holding back the tears as I blink them rapidly away, I grounded my teeth against each other as to prevent the screams and cries of self-loathing bubbling in my throat, escape. As my tears cascade down my cheeks like a stained river in large cities, I stared at my own worn out body with a piteous look seeing how even the atmosphere around me is despondent.

'Why am I still with him?'

I thought with despair as I started to patch the mess that was me, up.

The answer, I knew was always the same.

'Because I love him. It's how he shows his love. Don't doubt him.'

Wiping the physical evidence of emotional scarring away, I washed my hands free from the stench of antiseptic.

'I should stop.'

That's how it would always go.

I tell myself that I should stop ; to which I should, seeing how it was the most logical thing to do in order to heal my body and mind, but the thing is — love doesn't work that way. Love doesn't work in any way that you desired it to or wanted it to, because it's an enigma that would either haunt you, bless you, or even worse — both. I use to believe in it though, that love could only bring nothing but joy because it's something sacred that only two souls in the world would experience, but how wrong I was.