Levi Ackerman Drawings Novels & Stories

My little cat had learned how to scheme. He nodded. “Actually, my family and I aren’t on good terms. So I don’t know much about their business.” However, the small smile on my lips didn’t last long. It disappeared the moment Mila spoke. “Levi is an artist,” she said, her tone filled with admiration and pride. “He paints beautifully. He drew some pictures of me on the island.” Then she pulled her phone out of her purse and flipped through her photos. When she turned the screen to show the drawings, my heart tightened.

Leo smiled as he shook his head and moved his arm that had been bandaged earlier, signaling to her that he was fine. Seeing that they still hadn’t finished their conversation, Melanie then turned around and entered the study that was connected to the room. The study was very neat and organized, just like Leo himself. There were quite a few drawings that attracted Melanie’s attention, and they were all of the same man; the man in the drawings had short hair, was slightly skinny, and had a strong and defined face. The person who had made the drawings was quite skilled. They used multiple colors to draw the man’s figure and hair, and the lines were all quite spirited. But strangely, none of th

It’s a shock receiving it, is all,’ he explains, and we get ourselves organised at our desks. After a couple of hours of work, I notice one of Ace’s sketches pinned on the wall. I stand and walk over to it. ‘Wow! Did you draw this?’ I ask. ‘Um, yeah, I did,’ he says, modestly. ‘It’s a beautiful dress. Will it be in the fashion show?’ I ask. ‘Probably not,’ he mumbles. ‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ I reply. ‘Would you like to see some of the designs that will be at the fashion show?’ He asks.

*** My office desk drawer opens with that familiar squeak I keep meaning to fix. Twenty-seven notes now. I counted this morning. Twenty-seven pieces of cream cardstock in Adrian's precise handwriting. Arranged chronologically. Documented like evidence. I slide Ava's drawing in with them. Not because it's evidence. It actually belongs here with the other things I'm keeping but can't examine directly. The notes that prove Adrian remembers everything. The drawing that proves my daughter sees something I'm trying not to. I close the drawer. Through my office window, Manhattan spreads out below. Busy Monday morning.

I said firmly " I'm not coming to ask you about the work sir, I'm fine with the new position." He smiled " So?" " I remember that person is one of the undercover leaders of the Blackstone who lives in the US, I forgot to show you." He gave me his phone I looked at that picture, it's hand-drawn. It's from a left-handed person, I can see that from the tips," Who drew this?" Harvey looked at me shocked then swallowed, " Sir, I found one of the men, good at drawing and I described the man for him."

Harry immediately jumped off old Levi's body, ran to his bag, and pulled a picture from his bag. He held out the picture in front of Carwyn Levi, cheerfully saying, "Uncle Levi, last time Harry drew a picture, he got first place! This is a painting by Harry, give him one!" Carwyn Levi's heart was racing, he accepted the painting, and looked at it carefully, feeling his heart now melt.

Ace chimed in, his eyes shining with pride. I couldn't help but smile at their infectious energy, feeling a warmth spread through my heart. Pushing aside my worries for a moment, I shifted my focus to them, eager to see their creations. "That's wonderful, sweeties! Let me see." I beckoned them closer, and they eagerly rushed over, holding their drawings into my hands. Luna's drawing shown a colorful garden scene, complete with flowers, butterflies, and a shining sun, while Ace's featured a tall tree laden with apples, surrounded by smiling stick-figure people.

She explained. “I’m so sorry. Ace is…um, he’s a very complicated individual. He has a lot of baggage,” Levi said as he dabbed more at the cut. He could see that it was not deep, it just needed to be cleaned and bandaged. It was not a big deal and he was grateful. “Yeah, in the past few days of knowing him, I have realized.” “Mm-hmm,” Levi mumbled and then let go of her hand. He reached into the compartment of the car and pulled out a small box. In there were bandages and some alcohol wipes. He opened the box and took out a few wipes and a bandage.

Chloe drew the cup small and dark and the figure still. Léo came home at four without the crutch. Chloe looked at his hand and the crutch was not there. He was holding it loosely at his side, not using it, just carrying it the way you carry something you might need but haven't needed yet. He lowered himself into the chair slowly, his leg straight in front of him, and saw the sketchbook on the table. "What are you drawing?" "The building. I finished it." He reached for the sketchbook and she pushed it toward him. He looked at the drawing for a long time, his finger tracing the bench, finding the small figure and the cup, looking at the connections at the corners, the shadow under the wall, th

Is everything OK? I’d started painting the upstairs, but because Levi refused to let me climb a ladder in my condition – and because I was still clumsy as hell – it now looked like a circus house, with only the bottom half done. Levi wanted to keep the stick figures I’d drawn over the patches. It wasn’t a reminder of his gruesome temper anymore, he said, but a symbol of how anything broken could be beautiful. Yeah, I know, right? Who knew Levi could be such a poet?