𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 || 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟓 : 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜

I struggled to open my heavy eyelids, a sharp stabbing pain shot through my head, like a thousand daggers piercing my brain. The light from the hospital room was harsh, making me squint. My vision was a blurry haze, shapes and colors blending together in a maddening dance. I tried to lift my hand to rub my eyes, but it felt like lead, weighed down by an invisible force.

The beeping of the machines surrounding me was a noise of chaos, each pulse echoing through my skull like a drumbeat. I felt disoriented, lost in a sea of confusion. The oxygen mask on my face was a constant reminder of my vulnerability, the hissing sound of the oxygen flowing into my nostrils a steady accompaniment to my ragged breathing.

I slowly regained consciousness, trapped in this sterile hospital bed, surrounded by the antiseptic smell of disinfectant and the faint tang of medication. The beeping machines seemed to grow louder, more insistent, as if urging me to awaken fully, to confront the reality of my situation.

With a struggling effort, I focused on my surroundings. The hospital room was a drab, beige-colored space with pale blue curtains partially drawn around my bed. A nurse's station loomed outside my door, a hub of quiet activity.

My throat was parched, dry, and scratchy. I tried to speak, but my voice was barely a whisper, lost in the oxygen mask. My head throbbed, protesting every movement, every thought. Fear crept in, seeping into the cracks of my consciousness.

Memories burst forth like a dam breaking, flooding my mind with vivid, terrifying images. Ryan's face contorted in rage, his fists clenched, striking me with precision and malice. I felt the familiar sting of pain as his blows landed, each impact a fresh wave of agony. The floor beneath me scraped and burned as he dragged me across it, my screams muffled by the sound of my own heartbeat.

In desperation, I reached out with shaking fingers, dialing Blake's number, praying he'd answer.

I lay there, helpless, surrounded by the shattered remnants of my own life. A pool of blood spread beneath me, warm and sticky, a gruesome mirror reflecting my shattered soul. Tears streamed down my face, soaking the pillow, as fear and despair clawed at my heart.

Each breath came in ragged gasps, my chest heaving with sobs. The world narrowed to a tiny, horrific focus: Ryan's face, twisted in cruelty; the pain; the blood; and Blake's voice, distant and reassuring, promising rescue.

Time lost all meaning as I drifted in and out of consciousness, trapped in a waking nightmare. The memories replayed on an endless loop, taunting me with what I'd endured. Ryan's laughter echoed through my mind, a chilling reminder of his pleasure in my suffering.

A gentle voice pierced the haze, "The patient is awake." The words hung in the air like a beacon, signaling a new chapter. A nurse, with a warm smile and kind eyes, glided towards me, a clipboard clasped tightly in her hand. She expertly removed the oxygen mask, its gentle hiss ceasing as it was lifted away.

With a reassuring touch, she guided me upright, my back resting against the plush pillow's softness. The movement sent waves of dizziness crashing through me, but her steady grip anchored me. As I settled, she smiled again, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Welcome back," she said, her voice infused with warmth. "You've been with us for almost three weeks, in and out of consciousness." Her words dripped with compassion, easing the fog from my mind.

My gaze wandered, taking in the sterile hospital room. The beeping machines, once jarring, now seemed muted, their rhythms almost soothing. The nurse's words continued, a gentle stream of information.

"We'll need to run a few more tests to ensure you're on the road to recovery." Her pen scratched across the clipboard, recording vital signs and notes. "But don't worry, you're doing great."

She paused, her smile brightening. "I'll let your visitors know you're awake. They've been waiting anxiously."

The room's fluorescent lights, once harsh, now seemed muted, filtered through the haze of my exhaustion. My eyelids drooped, heavy with the weight of awakening. Yet, with each breath, strength seeped back, fueled by the nurse's reassuring presence.

After a while, The silence was shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps, growing louder with each passing moment. My heart skipped a beat as the door burst open, and Blake and Hange rushed in, their faces etched with concern. They halted, gasping for air, as if they'd sprinted down the corridor.

Hange's eyes locked onto mine, brimming with tears. She rushed to my side, embracing me tightly. "Oh, thank goodness you're awake!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. "We were so worried about you!" Her hug was a vice, squeezing the air from my lungs, but I wouldn't have let go even if I could.

Blake's rugged features softened as he ruffled my hair, a gentle smile spreading across his face. "Glad you're alive," he said, his voice laced with relief. "We thought we'd lost you." His touch was a comforting reminder of better times.

Just as the warmth of their presence began to soothe me, another footstep echoed outside my room. The door creaked open, and a familiar figure stood in the doorway, his piercing gaze scanning the room.

Levi Ackerman's sharp eyes narrowed, his expression a mask of controlled emotion. His rugged jawline and chiseled features seemed carved from granite, yet his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. For a moment, he stood frozen, taking in the scene before him.

His gaze settled on me, and I felt a jolt of electricity run through my veins. The tension in his shoulders eased, replaced by a subtle relaxation, as if assured I was indeed alive and recovering.

Without a word, Levi stepped into the room, his movements economical and deliberate. His presence filled the space, commanding attention. Hange and Blake parted, making room for him beside my bed.

Levi's voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade. "You're pathetic," he spat, each word dripping with venom. Hange's hands grasped for his arm, trying to restrain him, but Levi shrugged her off.

"Levi, stop!" Hange pleaded, her voice laced with desperation.

But Levi ignored her, his gaze burning with fury as he towered over me. "How could you be so weak?" he demanded, his words slicing through my fragile composure. "How could you let Ryan treat you like trash?"

The accusation stung, and I felt my eyes well up with tears. I couldn't meet Levi's piercing stare, my shame and guilt suffocating me. I remained silent, unable to defend myself.

Levi's anger was a noticeable force, radiating from him like heat. His jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with indignation. "You're stronger than this," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You're better than this."

Hange's gentle touch on Levi's arm was a futile attempt to calm the storm brewing within him. "Levi, please," she whispered.

But Levi's fury would not be contained. His eyes flashed with disgust, and I felt myself shrinking under his scrutiny. "Look at you," he sneered. "Broken, battered, and helpless. Is this what you've been lessened to?"

Each word was a razor-sharp blow, cutting deep into my already fractured soul. I felt my shoulders tremble, my body racked with sobs. Levi's anger was a maelstrom, sweeping me up in its vortex.

His gaze lingered on me, a scorching critique that left me breathless. For a moment, I thought I saw something else in his eyes – something akin to pain, to sorrow – but it was quickly extinguished by his rage.

His voice dropped to a low, deadly whisper, each word precise and deliberate.

"When I find Ryan," he vowed, his tone dripping with malice, "I'll kill him."

The words hung between us like a challenge, a solemn oath etched in stone.

Then, without another word, Levi turned and left, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with the weight of his unspoken vow.