selfish [levi ackerman]

4

"Sorry, can I help you?" you asked him, earning no response. You stood there holding your bag, waving, and yet he refused to look up.

Awful bold of the guy sitting at my desk, you thought.

You watched as he scribbled minuscule cursive words onto the paper in front of him, earbuds in his ears and a hand under his chin.

You stood impatiently, shifting your body uncomfortably in place. Surely he'd sense you eventually, which would then lead to you interrogating him on his choice of seating.

Barely anyone sat at this specific desk: it was close to the library's entrance and nestled right in front of a gigantic west-facing window, which deterred students due to the prospect of the sun's glare on their laptop screens.

You had never minded this, instead relishing the sensation of sunlight on your face as you worked. You felt safe and productive there. It had always felt like your spot, so seeing Levi in it was abnormally irritating.

After no response from him, you resorted to a different tactic. Tugging his left earbud out of his ear, you repeated your initial question.

He whipped his head up and glared at you, a semblance of shock on his face.

"What the fuck?" he half-yelled.

"I could say the same to you," you retorted, "what're you doing at my desk?"

"Is your name on it?" he asked, "Is 'alien' inscribed on the wood or did I miss that?"

"I have a name," you replied, watching him dramatically move his things around to look for your theoretical name on the desk.

"Right," he stated, turning back to his paper and securing the loose earbud back into his ear.

The confusion in your chest began to twist into an irritated scramble of annoyance. You yanked the earbud out again, this time with a stronger force.

"I'm sorry Levi, I wasn't fucking done," you stated, your tone venomous. Your irritation was evident, and you knew he could tell.

He turned to you again, this time slower. He flicked a grey pen between his fingers, spinning it in small circles over and over.

It was mesmerizing, like watching one of those spirals that magicians use to hypnotize people into doing stupid shit.

"You're not gonna keep doing that," he said, voice dripping with sternness. He sounded like speaking to you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

The command paired with the flickering pen felt like he was trying to put you in a trance. One that would send you running away from the library for years to come. You scoffed.

This was the desk you loved, your library desk. Even he had a favorite one near the back. If people were allowed to have desk preferences, you were going to stand up for yours.

"What if I do keep doing that? What then Levi?" you antagonized, "You gonna hurt me?"

His face remained stoic, the pen twisting from his ring finger to his index, sliding delicately to the middle and cascading across to the ring all over again. His hands were clad in thick, silver rings that, if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn't have minded staring at longer.

"What the hell do you want from me," he asked, interrupting your thoughts.

You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding.

"I sit here every day," you said, "Barely anyone else sits here." 

Levi shrugged. "Okay. This pertains to me how?"

You shut your mouth tightly, forming a straight line with your lips and looking towards the back of the building.

His favorite desk was empty.

"Every time I've seen you here you've sat in the same desk," you admitted, "It's open. Why aren't you there?"

He looked up at you, seemingly aware of the fact. "I don't see why that matters."

You rubbed your forehead and sighed gently to try and calm down.

Be rational, you thought, because clearly one of us has to be.

"This is my favorite desk. I'd appreciate if you moved because I get my work done best when I do it here."

A sort of staring contest began between the two of you, a tense quiet choking the air. Although you couldn't read his expression, you were certain you had vexed him.

It felt like an hour had passed as you stared back, though in reality it was less than ten seconds. You finally blinked and he began silently gathering his stuff together.

It took him no time to pack up and move desks, his face still unreadable the entire time. You felt both victorious and guilty for making him move, but a sense of pride washed over you, regardless.

He maneuvered his things to a desk behind you, only this one was settled against a windowless section of the same wall. Dark and quiet. Fitting for a guy like him.

You settled down and started on your notes, swearing that you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head throughout the entire study session. Yet, every time you looked back, he was always focused on his own work.

The ghost of a stare lingering on your head had hindered your productivity, but eventually you got all of your work done. You checked your phone and noted that it was a quarter until four.

The possibility of a relaxing night in the dorm graced your mind again. You could finally indulge in the tea you'd been craving since yesterday.

Yet, as you gathered your things and left the library, you found your mind drifting to Levi.

His deep voice made even the most biting remarks sound appealing. You hated how attractive he was. Cute in the irritating, self-aware way that vexed you.

He was the type of guy who knew he looked good, which let his personality have to compensate less.

You found yourself wondering why you had encountered him two days in a row after barely ever seeing him outside the library.

What if there was somehow a chance that you would see him again today? Did you even want that?

Your mind was a mess.

And for the first time in years, you decided to take a long walk to clear your head.