Lost
He sat on their favourite lounge chair, a glass in hand. Unlike most people, Levi despised getting drunk. Especially when his thoughts were erratic and all over the place.
For someone in his line of duty, staying sober was a priority. He needed to be clear-minded to lead an organization like his.
Levi was by no means okay. The house that had turned into a home felt empty and cold. His angels were long gone, leaving behind an emptiness that grew by the minute.
The house felt cold bringing back memories he would rather forget. This level of helplessness took him back to the hellhole he called home for years. The very place he lived for years under the devil's roof.
His body shivered, recalling the stings from the whips. He was slowly falling back into the rabbit hole he desperately wished to escape from.
Being in such a vulnerable state didn't make his senses less alert. On the contrary, he could perceive the slightest movement of air.