Levi Ackerman was your loving husband, always patient—even when you were a little too drunk.

After returning from a party, he guided you to the bedroom, making sure you didn’t stumble. As you lay down, he walked to the wardrobe, pulling out your pajamas and one of his white shirts.

“Which one?” he asked, holding them up.

Grinning, you picked his shirt instead, just to tease him.

He smirked but didn’t argue, helping you change. Once the oversized shirt was on, he rolled up the sleeves for you, making sure you were comfortable.

“Alright, let’s wash your face and brush your teeth.”

Before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly with one arm, your legs dangling as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Levi, I can walk.”

“Tch. You can barely stand,” he muttered, carrying you to the bathroom like it was nothing.