Chapter Text
My mother always told me to appreciate beautiful things. When I was little she would take me to art shows in the town hall every month, and I would always end up having to drag her away from the paintings after a couple hours. I didn't really understand it back then, but then again I was only a kid. Confiding in beautiful things such as art or photography every now and then was healthy and sometimes you need to take a moment and just drink it all in, because God knows when you'll be able to find that same state of peace again.
That is why I never feel irritated when I wake up to the sound of soft snoring, or rustling in the bed opposite mine.
That is also why I never feel guilty about simply watching him from across the room, his face smushed into a pillow and the blankets wrapped around him like a grumpy burrito.
Living in the same dorm as your best friend definitely had its perks. I wouldn't want to wake up to anyone else's ridiculous bed head, or anyone else's silk pajamas (yes of course he has silk pjs, who do you think he is?).
I laid in my bed contently lost in my thoughts for a moment before getting up to start the coffee maker, making sure to put on pants before I got shouted at (again). There's many lovely stories I could tell about those instances, but that's for another day.
I grab the cereal from the cabinet and milk from the fridge, sitting down in silence. I hear the alarm in our room blare, a soft groan, and a thud, which I presume is the result of a tossed object. I munch on my cereal, and wait patiently.
The door finally opens a minute later, and Levi stands there in all his glory, the comforter still curled tightly around his frame, and a messy bed head that looks like he tried to halfway fix.
"Morning, sunshine." I say sweetly.
"Fuck off, Jaeger," he grumbles softly, to which I chuckled quietly. He shuffles over to the cabinet and takes out a mug, leaving the door open. His eyes are droopy and unseeing, and I almost laugh once more when he pours the coffee into the mug- or tries to at least.
"Levi, you're doing the thing again." The liquid missed the mug completely, spilling across the counter, creating a large brown puddle. He lets out a string of curses, and I jump up, grabbing the mug and coffee from him, our hands brushing in the process, and pour it for him as he wipes down the counter with a dozen paper towels.
However, my self control could only last so long, and when he turns around and runs straight into the cabinet door, I nearly spill the coffee again. His hand flies up to his forehead and rubs at the abused spot. Tears rise to my eyes as I set the mug down and try to regain my bearings.
"Stop laughing, shit stain. Would you like a blow to the head as well? 'Cause if you keep it up, that's what you're getting."
"Aw, Levi. It's okay, we all know it's only your wounded pride talking." I coo.
"I have a fucking bruise!"
"You want me to kiss it all better?" I make to stand up, and he immediately takes a step back, his face paling.
"Eat shit, Bright Eyes," he wanders off into the living room to drink his coffee, no doubt trying to rebuild his dignity.
I finally understood then what my mother had meant all those years ago.