Guns and Cigarettes [Levi/Rivaille x OC]

Chapter 15: Troubles in Paradise Pt.1

Veins streaked across the pathetic excuse of my screen protector, clawing possessively over a vivid screen that glowered accusingly at my painted-on face. The darkness scampered off cowardly to a new notification setting the face of my phone ablaze. The last auburn rays of a a fatigued sun retreated behind the façade of trees.

Joining the mass pile of messages which I hadn't bothered checking, a new one was left atop the limbs of letters wilting from the lack of attention. A fresh, blue dot was printed beside a name that ironically left a bitter taste in everyone's mouth. Distinctly, I recalled his signature scowl a while back at the tiny pile of shit stringing along behind his name when he scrolled through my recent contacts. It was fitting, I told him, after all those shitty constipation jokes. A plaque of appreciation, almost.

The memo itself which had just arrived, despite the perfect grammar boxed in an envelope of grey to match the colour of my soul, left my hands tainted in disappointment.

Levi Ackerman 💩: I'm not coming. I'm busy.

An invisible string was taut, tugging the misleadingly sharp, defined fin of my drawn eyebrow closer towards the hairline as my thumb pirouetted across the keypad. The piece of virtual shit alongside his name smiled back tauntingly.

An irrelevant thought crossed my mind, just how on earth am I still getting these messages out here in the woods, practically next to a ditch in the middle of nowhere, where the signal is supposed to be out?

Have the typical blockbuster movies been lying to me?

Clickity clickity click. Pause. Send.

Levi are you kidding me??

And almost instantly.

Levi Ackerman 💩: No.

Hanji said you'd come along.

Levi Ackerman 💩: Hanji says a lot of things.

"You're missing out on soooo much cake." My voice dawdled along after my dainty fingers. My back slouched against a malnourished tree that shivered against the sharp daggers of wind. The little bauble of the moon hung up in the increasingly inky dome, trying to assert its dominance by baking us under its wretched glare.

Levi Ackerman 💩: Tempting... 🙄

Even through two screens and the miles between us couldn't effectively filter out the sarcasm weaved within his tone. It was truly a gift.

Levi Ackerman 💩: You can go stuff your face now. Tell me how shit it is afterwards.

Have it your way, asshole 😡

Delivered.

"Hazel," The clear ring of Petra Ral's voice snapped my notice from his digital eye roll, "Have you seen Levi?"

My brow crumpled sympathetically, recreating the fate of those History notes left abandoned at the bottom of my schoolbag, "No, I haven't."

Oh. That amber glow in her eyes seemed to respire defeatedly. Oh.

The scrunching of her expensive cocktail dress. The brief downward tug at the edge of her perfectly lined lips which was immediately masked by a half-hearted grin. A sad truth that heaved her beautiful doll face down like wet laundry. That joyful beam must have been heavy to keep up tonight. I watched so much unhappiness cloud her innocent, doe-like orbs. There was so much of it in there, I wondered whether it hurt, whether they stung her eyes.

Something grazed into my vision. And I couldn't bear to take another look at her.

If I gazed up at the girl before me, I'd probably catch a haunting glimpse of another obnoxiously-grand mahogany dinner table to seat the many houseguests of dust particles. An obnoxiously-large store-brought cake crumbling away. An obnoxiously-short voice memo, strewed with drunken slurs, echoing distantly from the other side of the planet.

I'm working. I'll be there soon. I promise.

It was always the same. Year after year. Year after year. Year after ... honestly, who gives a shit anymore?

"Come on," I nipped onto her wrist, dragging her behind me as I slipped my phone into my back pocket. Her heels clapped weakly behind mine, "Don't worry about who has made it here yet or not. The night hasn't even started."

"Haha ... alright..." Her voice faintly whistled over my shoulder. It rippled out, fading into the ambience of our surroundings. Wooden limbs of dauntingly tall trees wedged out of the earth in awkward angles like toothpicks as we ambled by. Their spines hunched over us.

At this point, I don't think it mattered much that me and Petra were feebly acquainted. That I secretly resented how well-liked this girl was amongst everyone. How she was gifted with those lovely, and cheerful, and uncorrupted eyes, that damn standard of beauty those God-forsaken magazines constantly slap you with, alongside my mediocre resting bitchface. And how I had, as much as I'd refuse to admit, actually entertained the possibility of losing Levi's company if he had taken her seriously.

I think this was pretty obvious. Although I wouldn't tie these gnawing thoughts to an ugly emotion. I'm just guilty of being thorough ... that's right. I'm guilty of being thorough. And realistic.

That's all it is. Trust me.

And Levi, your ability to hurt is truly a gift.
I suppose you know that already, asshole.

"Hanji is taking a while to show up. I hope she didn't get lost." I commented to no one in particular.

The road exhaled soil at our feet. The woods observed our unruly presence. Bulky cars blinked flirtatiously into the dark which cloaked our surroundings. Their metal scraps littering the muddy road, claiming dominance. So many pairs of nocturnal eyes, folded convolutedly in the shadows of trees, blinked back. They probably wondered what the hell a bunch of high school kids were doing, parked out here and socialising outside their cars like abandoned children in the forest during a famine, right in the middle of nowhere.

And I wondered with them.

Strange place for a party, Petra.

Are you sure this isn't where you bury a dead body?

That's what I would have told her.

If I hadn't already lost her to another group of teenagers standing by a red Range Rover.
If I hadn't already spotted Hitch and a haze of shadows getting out of a car and sauntering towards me.

And that same smug face as if I was another stupid turtle for her to throw into the pool.

Fancy a swim?

---------------------------

[a/n]

Kids who have parties where no one shows up makes me very sad :'(
It is confirmed that Hazel is not a war-like flawless goddess but an ugly potato like me haha 

This was an ugly draft I wrote up quickly so please be kind and don't throw anything at me -also linked a soundtrack that helped with the writing because I'm weird like that

ok bye