So, Bad Boy leaks dropped today and drowned us all in angst and feels. I needed to write something naturally, so here it is.


Tea and a Mother's Love


Gabi's been brooding, evident in the subtle signs: the tension etched on her face, the frequent moments of her being lost in a daze. Falco can guess where her thoughts are lingering. It comes tumbling out later that afternoon.

"I want to buy a teacup for him."

Falco stills, looking up from the vegetables he's chopping. "Do you think he'd appreciate that? I mean..." he trails off, his mind flashing back to the heartbreaking story Levi had told them a few days ago about his childhood.

The fact that Levi felt confident enough to confide something so personal with them stirred a warmth inside his chest - a trust that felt precious, like a delicate gift placed in Falco's hands. He would carry it securely.

"I think he would. Possibly." Gabi fidgets. "I don't know much about teacups, but you know that small store at the edge of the city center? They sell ceramic. I want to take a look tomorrow."

The next day, Gabi drags Falco and Onyankopon with her into the city to scrutinize every cup and ramble at the shop owner she needs the best teacup he has.

000

Levi still dreams of his mother sometimes. Of course, he does. He loves her - loves her so very much. It's been so long since she died, but sometimes it still hurts as if her death happened yesterday - as if he just saw the light fading from her eyes.

He treasures the memories he has of her, though they are blurred around the edges, faded with the flow of time. It's hard to picture her face, and when he tries to recall her voice, his memory fails him. But amidst the haze, he distinctly remembers her loving touch: soft fingers threading through his hair, nimble hands preparing tea, and careful fingertips gently wiping away his overgrown hair.

Tea is vital to him, keeping him grounded and serving as a tether to his mother's soft smile—a warmth that persisted even amidst the ugliness that shrouded their lives.

The first time Levi breaks a teacup years later, it simply falls off the table. The sharp crash pierces through him, and something inside him splits wide open, all ugly and harsh edges. He nearly punches a hole through the wall, breath catching in his faltering lungs, sticky sweat collecting at the base of his neck as he struggles to find his equilibrium amidst the disarray.

That evening, when Farlan asks what happened to his hand, Levi simply shakes his head and keeps intensely scrubbing the floor of their small room. Cleaning helps to clear his head when the thoughts become too heavy. As he works, the sting of soap on his busted knuckles is a distant sensation, barely registering amidst the turmoil inside his head. That night, he goes to bed early. He doesn't sleep.

000

"For you."

Levi stares at the table and the teacup standing in front of him. It's white - almost creme-colored, with gold lining the rim.

Gabi is biting down on her lower lip as she fidgets, tugging at the edge of her blouse.

"For me?" Levi's voice is rough all of a sudden, and he has to clear his throat. The ceramic is cold under his touch. From the corner of his eye, he catches Onyankopon's smile as he busies himself with cutting the fruitcake they bought. Levi doesn't particularly like the taste of it; he finds it too sweet. But Gabi and Falco love it, and that's reason enough.

"Yeah." Gabi smiles, face soft, almost shy. She lets her fingers run across the tabletop. "For you."

"Thanks. It's-" It's beautiful, heartwarming, stunning, something he can stare at for hours and get lost in his own mind. "Nice," he says instead of all the big words rolling around in his brain. He's shit at expressing himself, and the word almost gets stuck, but he manages to say it without the word splitting in two.

If Hange were here, she would smile and pat Gabi's shoulder, affirming to her that Levi is indeed deeply touched to receive such a thoughtful gift. With Hange's eye-roll in mind, Levi tries once more.

"I mean it," he says. "It's beautiful." The word rolls off his tongue. And it's almost sweeter than the strawberries dotting the piece of cake on his plate.

000

That night, Levi dreams of Kuchel. He dreams of her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, of frail hands shrubbing his clothes in cold, soapy water in an attempt to clean them. He dreams of the smell of blood and the taste of rage. He dreams of soft fingers wiping away his tears after a nightmare.

When Levi wakes up, his face is distinctly wet, and his breath doesn't want to stop hitching inside his chest. But it's fine. He lets it. Levi closes his eyes against the early morning light spilling through the curtains and listens to the chorus of birdsong outside, trying to picture Kuchel's smile.

000

"Mom?" Levi's voice is quiet as he looks up at Kuchel.

Kuchel smiles down at her son, her hand gently brushing through his dark hair. Levi's hair is getting long, she notes silently. Perhaps it's time to give him a trim.

"I managed to get some tea leaves. What do you say, should I boil water for afternoon tea?"

Levi's smile that follows is the brightest thing in this godforsaken place, Kuchel decides. It's the thing she wants to protect and keep safe. Her precious son.