Unspoken Norms | Levi Ackerman ✔️

Chp 14 ~ From The Other Perspective

Fun Fact: Levi makes his tea himself but sometimes someone is nice enough to do it for him. 

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Levi's POV

Camp was in three days. Yet I still haven't packed.

Reclining on the leather couch, a cup in hand, I watched as the living room clock ticked to the hour of six. Kenny was supposed to be home by now with tonight's takeaway dinner.

But as the untouched silence drifted through the house, my teeth began worrying over my bottom lip. Where in hell is that guy?

I sighed in frustration, looking down at my cup. Black tea swirled inside the porcelain rim, tendrils of steam kissing my face. If he doesn't return by the time this tea cools down...

My eyes flitted to the doorway again. Shadows greeted me, lengthening as sunlight faded.

Fuck this.

Firmly placing my cup onto the low-lying table, I rose from the couch and headed towards the apartment's entrance, impatience lashing at my feet. I was done waiting for my dinner—I might as well go buy something from the local supermarket. Something to fill up my stomach.

Along my way to the door, I snatched up my wallet by the kitchen bench before switching off the living room lights. Right as I reached for the knob, it began twisting itself, announcing Kenny's arrival.

I backed up a few steps to let the door swing, revealing a tall figure clad in a dark coat and hat. Kenny lifted a smile, flashing teeth in the dim light. "Hey Levi—what ya doing here? Thought you were meant to stay in the house?"

"How come you're so late?" I asked instead, ignoring him entirely.

He shrugged a shoulder, fingers holding up a plastic bag with meal containers in it. "Work, traffic, the usual, ya know. No need to be so worried, kid."

I remained where I was, only shifting positions to cross my arms.

Kenny heaved a long breath. "Fine. Fine. You got me. Went to visit a few friends. They were asking for a visit earlier—so just went to see 'em. Nothing you should concern yourself with, Levi."

I arched a brow suspiciously at his manner but didn't press on. Releasing a sigh, I turned back to the living room, switching on the lights again.

The tantalising aroma of spice and herbs from the dishes threatened saliva to gather in my mouth, but I resisted its allure as I flopped back onto the couch; hand reaching for my tea. Before my fingers could clasp around the cup's rim, Kenny beat me to it.

"Now, now, kid. Tea ain't as good as beer," he drawled, pulling the cup away from me. He placed a glass bottle in its place, bearing the shade of dark mahogany. "Try this."

My eyes fulgurated daggers at my so-called uncle, who began bringing out plastic food containers. The beer bottle stayed untouched, because in no circumstance was I drinking that sort of shit. Torn between chucking the bottle at Kenny's face or simply watching him, I chose the wisest decision.

"So... I hear your camp's in three days... Have ya started packing yet?" he asked languidly, features incised with his usual grin.

"No. And I'm not planning to until another two days."

Kenny removed the plastic lids of the two containers, releasing fingers of steam from the dishes; chicken curry rice and stir-fried noodles. "Well, you don't wanna be unprepared, do ya? You should bring this along—just in case you need a sip." He gestured to the mahogany bottle, and I glared at him.

"You'd think I could bring that to camp," I said dryly, rising to my feet and swiftly grabbing my cup before Kenny could interfere. "I'll eat once you're done." 

Don't want to see your face for another minute. I'd rather starve a little than deal with him for a whole meal. Yes, he had raised me, stepped in the place of my deceased parents, but that didn't mean I had any respect for him.

Slamming the door to my room, I leaned against it, eyes roaming around the impeccable interior. White gleamed from all directions, ranging from the bed's ivory quilt to the lacquered desk hosting books, newly-bought tea products, and a mixture of stationery.

All this tidiness... only to be ruined again. One of the many reasons why I hated packing for camp. But this time, camp would be different. (Y/N) would be there. I didn't know why but ever since she came... I had changed a bit. Somehow.

Usually, I shed no concern for anyone who was harassed by the popular gang; merely because I had little involvement with the bullying itself. But when (Y/N) became that victim...

I took a deep gulp from my cup, holding in my wince as the tea scalded my tongue. Fire lacerated down my throat, but I kept swallowing. I needed something to distract myself, to cast my thoughts on something else. I plunked down the porcelain cup, arms bracing on either side of the desk.

Shit. That was hot. Clenching my teeth in an attempt to stop my tongue burning, I forced out a breath, raven strands patterning my vision. I needed to refocus—who did I think I was? Some unpopular teenage boy longing for love?

No. I was not that guy. I was extremely popular, but love was an unsought thing for me. Unnecessary. Whatever I felt towards (Y/N)... the relief I felt... the prickling sensation...

Forget it all, I thought.