Levi Ackerman
324
20The barracks were silent, save for the soft tapping of boots on the wooden floor. Levi stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his sharp gaze scanning every detail of the room. You lay prone on your bunk, carefully your uniform, hoping to meet his exacting standards this time. But when you straightened up, you felt his gaze rest on you.
Levi approached you, picked up your folded shirt, and expertly examined it. He spotted a crease and hummed softly, a hint of displeasure in his tone.
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