Forget-Me-Not

Monsieur Ackerman

Your fist meets wood, you knock once...twice...and then three times before the old door that's splintering a bit opens.

"Hi, Y/n."

You smile at the woman in front of you, "Hi Hitch, how have you been?"

She lets you into her house, and she snorts at your words, "Better than you I suppose, you want to tell me how last night went? I've already got some tea brewing."

You nod your head, and an unladylike groan that would make your mother fall to her knees falls from your lips.

"Last night was overly irritating, so much that I wanted the floor to swallow me whole and take me straight to hell as I'm sure it's a thousand percent better than last night's dinner."

You sit down at the brown table that you've sat at many times over, the familiar creak of the table filling your ears as Hitch's hip bumps it before she fixes the pot.

"Was it really that terrible?"

You nod, "It was. My mother was constantly pestering me as if I'm still 9 years old and not a grown woman. And then those rich aristocrat bastards only talk about money and how to get their stomachs full. It's as if they forgot about the entire French Revolution."

Hitch laughs as she pours your tea.

"I think they remembered when that painting of them being animals eating at a table was published. How did you feel about that one by the way?"

She pokes fun at you, and you shrug.

"I wish I was there to tell them that they should have added more pigs and fewer cows, it would have really emphasized the idea of aristocrats being disgusting beasts."

Hitch laughs, and you pull the teacup to your lips, the liquid falling on your tongue before your eyes widen. While her back is still to you, you slowly spill the tea back into its cup.

But as you look up, you notice her eyes staring at you and she dramatically groans.

"I told Maman that tea is not my specialty. But she insisted I make it upon request." She motions her fingers before she continues her rant, "First he doesn't like it, and then you. Actually, what don't you like about it so I can take notes on how to make the perfect tea on my bottom lip."

You snort at the woman's words, "I can't tell you much, I'm not that big of a fan of tea in the first place. I was actually surprised when you told me you made tea."

The woman groaned, the noise she made mixing with the noise of the creak of the floorboards.

"Yeah, I did, but not by choice, it tastes like horse piss apparently..." the woman grumbles a few more words to herself before she speaks again, "anyways Y/n, continue telling me about last night. Was there at least anyone good looking there?"

You roll your eyes as you knew that question was inevitable coming from Hitch.

"You know I wasn't searching, my mother would have a heart attack if I was." You grumble to yourself, looking off before a memory of last night rung through your head.

"Oh, you won't believe what happened!"

Hitch sits down, her lashes fluttering as she listens to you as a small, "what?" Comes out of her mouth.

"There was this one bastard who had the audacity to come up and introduce himself to me! What was his name again?"

You tap your lips, and you notice the way Hitch's eyes widen at your words.

"It was Levi Ackerman, that dark-haired bastard had the audacity to introduce himself to me-"

"Y/n."

You ignore Hitch, and you specifically ignore the panic on her tongue.