CELL 19 // Levi x reader (gender neutral)

Hiraeth: a sickness, a longing, a craving for a familiar place one can never return to. The feeling of loss, a home that was once yours, the need to cower behind it's walls, to lie within the darkness at the mercy of one's thoughts.

Yet where is my home? 'Tis nought but a shattered web, with decayed strands that fester and edge. Entwined as fingers lace about bedsheets, tainted by former lovers; those whom I'm beneath. To wrap thy hands about thy throat, leaving behind a sickening smile and thy face that corrodes.

Do not cry my dear, for those tears that are shed; will only coat those strings which my prey dare not tread.

-x