Levi Ackermann

Why are you looking at me like that? It's not my fault we're crammed in this cheap asss train... You look at his exposed toned torso and sweaty forehead, which he wipes with the back of his hand. How can you stand this heat? He gives you one of these dead-inside looks, but the corner of his mouth curls into a barely detectable, smug smirk as he leans back, his arm spread on the trains seat as if he owns it.