With You | Levi Ackerman

Chapter Three

You closed your eyes feeling his fingers brushing your face as he took the bandages off your face.

"They did said it's all healed..", he muttered as he concentrated on the bandages off your chin. You slowly fluttered open your eyes, wavering over his face. His concentrated grey eyes, his lips which he licked occasionally, his eyelashes blinking once, twice- then his eyes looked directly into yours, eyes flushing in and out of surprise, then it's just concern written all over it.

"Does it hurt?" He asked softly, eyes searching through yours. You could feel yourself shaking your head.

"Then.. why are you crying?" His soft whipers echoed around your mind, for it to register a little late. And before you could even perceive your own body, his hands are cupping your face. His thumbs stroking to wipe off the tears. This is when you realised the liquid flushing down your cheeks. The tears briming down your eyes.

You took in a shaky breath, placed your hands over his, just to remove them. Just to wrap your arms around his torso, to dig your face into the folds of his shirt. Just for him to wrap his arm around your body to keep you close to him. He glided his hands up and down your back in reassurance. You loved this about him. He didn't asked right away what's wrong. He never asked right away what was wrong. But always, always reassured you.

"I'm exhausted." You whispered into his chest, tightening your grip around him. And it felt so cruel to say it to him, to say it out loud. Because it's not only you who's exhausted. Everyone was. He was.

You've seen it. You have seen it with your own eyes now. There's a world out there. There's people out there. Real people, civilians, who have nothing to do with battles. Who have nothing to do with war.

But a war was inevitable.

War is inevitable.

He pulled you apart gently, just to wipe the tears off your cheeks, just to rest his forehead on yours. His hands, his thumbs stroking around your cheeks.
His thumbs gently going around the area, he just removed the bandages off.
Your eyes are closed, so does his. And all you could feel is his thumb stroking around in a certain way, in a curvy gesture around your cheeks.

"You always wonder about those celestial bodies don't you?" He whispered softly, his forehead still resting onto yours, his eyes still closed.

"How they might look like?" He continued, stroking his thumb in the same curvy pattern. You slightly nodded.

"Well, I know." He mumbled moving back just a little to look into your eyes.
"I know how they look.." He trailed off his eyes, wavering over your left chin. ".. they look beautiful." You blinked in surprise and in confusion.

"I would know, I would definitely know." He whispered softly, eyes stuck softly at the side of your face, thumbs still gliding the same motion.

"I absolutely know because I'm looking at it right now." He mumbled against your face, you could not feel your own body. "A moon." He looked into your eyes, "I have got myself a personal moon." He brushed his nose into yours. And then you realized what he has been saying. Then you realized what motion he's been gliding through this thumb. And your body thawed from inside. Breaking and breaking into small pieces.

A crescent moon. Your new wound. At the base of your left chin. The wound he's been referring to. The wound he's been calling a moon.

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Out of all the things you imagined, being in handcuffs the first thing after you meet your people was never in the list of assumption.