Life has always had its challenges. Yet you hadn’t even noticed that you were slipping until you crashed—literally, crashed through the door of your shared apartment and burst into tears, collapsing in a heap on the floor. Mental exhaustion had been slowly and surely creeping up on you, fogging your brain and thoughts, for the last few weeks. At first, you had chalked it up to physical exhaustion every time you felt yourself drifting, spacing out, just a little too out of it to be considered healthy. And then, the apathy set in, and suddenly work started to pile up, and you physically could not bring yourself to do any of it despite the urgency, the mental block too strong, too great. A war raged in your mind, flipping between feeling completely overwhelmed and in over your head, and feeling apathetic and not making any effort to help yourself. Your close circle didn’t notice a thing; you’d always been good at putting up a façade. But you had never felt farther away from knowing what it was that you truly wanted in life, the small creeping doubts about the path your studies had set you on finally rising to the surface, illuminated by the harsh white light of truth.
Was anything you did going to matter? Was this all a waste of time? You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this lost, this adrift, this aimless.
Feeling everything and nothing at once, you crumble under the weight of your own mind.
Levi comes running not a moment after the first sob escapes your quivering lips, and wastes no amount of time gathering you into his arms. Your explanation comes in a series of incoherent babblings and hiccups, trying to describe the turmoil inside of you whilst simultaneously struggling to even think, but somehow, Levi understands. He always does.
He asks no questions - you’re in no state to answer them, besides. He guides you to the bedroom, and he lets you wail into his shoulder. He lets you hold on so tight his breath comes short - but he keeps quiet, you need this. And when the crying fit begins to ebb, all energy draining out of you, you can’t move. You can’t think. You vaguely register him carefully wiping your tears and washing your face with a damp cloth. You feel his warm hands cup your face gingerly, his own forehead touching yours for a split second in a moment of empathy. You feel Levi guide you towards the cupboard to change into something more comfortable. All the while, he whispers a few sentences every now and then. I’ve got you. You’re so brave, you’re safe with me. I’m going to take care of you, and then you can take a rest, okay?
He carries you into the bed, all whilst your brain sputters and stutters. Your eyelids are leaden, drooping shut every time you force them to open. They throb slightly, still stinging from the aftermath of your tears. Sniffling a little, you bury your face further into Levi’s chest. The two of you are lying down, his sturdy arms wrapped firmly and protectively around your frame. Though your sobs have died down, Levi’s hands continue their ministrations, rubbing your back under your cotton sleep shirts, fingertips dancing over your skin in an attempt to soothe. A rather successful one, you would say, because your worn and tired body has turned into jelly, practically melting into his.
He murmurs your name as a question, his deep, soothing voice sending vibrations through his chest that you can feel. Not unlike a cat, you nuzzle your face into his shirt with a small sigh. His warmth envelopes you, lulling you into dreamland. “Yeah?” You respond sleepily, voice a hoarse murmur. Your eyes are closed, everything feels a little fuzzy. You’ve given up on trying to stay awake. Not a single thought crosses through your mind—you’re too mentally exhausted to formulate a single coherent thought in your head anymore.
“Let’s turn the lights off and sleep, yeah? Sleep this off. We’ll face it tomorrow, have a new fresh start, a reset. You’re okay.” Through the fog of drowsiness, you feel him kiss the top of your head.
You don’t have the energy to smile, but the corners of your lips twitch momentarily. Words of gratitude are right on the tip of your tongue, but you physically cannot formulate them. You want to thank him, for instinctively knowing what it is that you needed despite hardly conveying anything coherently to him, for everything.
“You don’t need to thank me. Get some sleep.” Levi says just as softly, and you quickly wander off into dreamland, safe in his arms.