Levi wasn’t one to drink. it wasn’t that he couldn’t handle his liquor, he has a pretty high alcohol tolerance, runs in his veins I guess. The reason he didn’t drink was because he was didn’t want to lower his guard, or ‘get loose’ as Hange would say.

Unlike the others, he didn’t want to become like those soldiers that tumbled back to their barracks and woke up with hangovers, he didn’t want to end up like those drunkards. Yet, here he found himself, chugging down glass after glass of whisky. Goodness, the headache he’ll get…

Levi sat on a stool at the front of the bar, he slouched over the table and sighed loudly, his hand holding his now empty glass. His face painted with what seems to be a permanent frown playing on his lips, letting out a few annoyed grumbles. You guys are currently at a bar, the reason being that the scout have successfully completed a pretty hard mission, now at a bar to celebrate. Yet Levi looked like he was having the worst time of his life.