Levi Ackerman's Son

Grandma

Lando, now eight, had grown more in personality than in height. He was a striking image of Levi at that age, but as Lando quickly discovered, he had inherited one of his father's traits: short stature. It seemed like every kid he saw was taller than him, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

"Mom," he began, pouting as they walked home from Ophelia's doctor's office, "Why am I so short compared to the other kids my age?"

Ophelia let out a soft laugh, looking down at him with a warm smile. "You can blame your father for that one," she said teasingly. "He was 5'7" on a good day."

Lando clicked his tongue in frustration, his footsteps slowing as his mind wandered. He didn't really have any friends his age. The only people he ever spoke to regularly were his mother and Auntie Joyce, and while he loved them both, it felt isolating sometimes. Especially when there were days his mom was busy with patients, and Auntie Joyce wasn't around to hang out. Lando didn't mind the doctor's office too much—it was familiar—but there were days when it felt too quiet, too empty. He wanted something more.

When they reached home, Lando opened the door for his mother. The familiar sight of Auntie Joyce's shoes at the entrance made his face light up.

"Joyce?" Ophelia called out, her voice carrying through the small house.

"In here!" came Joyce's reply, but it was strained, almost sounding like she was in pain.

Without hesitation, Ophelia rushed in, her shoes still on, Lando trailing behind. When he saw his aunt holding her ankle, looking pained, Lando's worry shifted to his mother's swift movements as she crouched down beside her.

"What happened?" Ophelia asked, her voice filled with concern.

Joyce winced as she responded, "I was gonna surprise you both by getting here first, but I tripped and now my ankle feels like it's on fire."

Ophelia immediately began to inspect Joyce's foot, and Lando moved aside to give them space. As he removed his shoes and neatly set them by the door, he couldn't help but notice how much he loved the clean space. He was almost compulsive about it, remembering what his mother had said about his father's habits. Levi was known for his obsession with cleanliness, and it had stuck with Lando.

"Alright, Lando, come here," Ophelia called.

Lando didn't hesitate. He approached his mother, her hands gently examining Joyce's ankle.

"This is a sprained ankle," Ophelia explained, glancing at Lando as she spoke. "I'm going to show you how to treat it since it's a frequent injury."

Lando's eyes widened as he focused, his interest piqued.

"Go grab some bandages," Ophelia instructed.

Without a word, Lando hurried to the kitchen, opening the cabinet and retrieving the necessary supplies. His hands shook slightly from the excitement of learning something new. He returned to his mom's side, offering her the bandages.

"Good," Ophelia said as she took them, "Now, to keep the ankle straight while it heals. If you don't, it could get worse."

Lando nodded seriously, watching his mother work. Despite her unflappable demeanor, he could tell she cared deeply for Joyce's well-being. It was moments like these when Lando realized just how much he admired his mom, how much he wanted to be like her.

Once the bandages were in place, Joyce groaned but managed a grateful smile. "Thanks, but how am I supposed to get home like this?"

"You can stay with us!" Lando chimed in eagerly, his face lighting up at the thought of his aunt staying over.