Guns and Cigarettes [Levi/Rivaille x OC]

Chapter 16: There's Black, White & Blue

"Is your mind blown yet?"

The question, cloaked in an accusing tone, was thrown over roughly at him. It lingered for a brief moment, like another friend on the stone slabs of steps between us, before being beaten away by the rowdy ambience of busy pedestrians. People who shifted in packs, their shadows brushed over us, spilling over the old entrance steps of a cathedral. And baking under the stare of congested traffic that line up this small pot-holed alleyway of restaurants.

I looked over at Levi expectedly.

This is when you're supposed to respond, you dumb shit.

Those little beads, a broth of blue, darted up promptly at me as his teeth remain burrowed in a cutlet. His face was awash with ... my best guess is awe? Along with a faint rosy glow from an obnoxiously flashy street sign. My eyes trailed after a string of sauce that dripped from the prey in his mouth.

"You know the sauce is the best bit, right?"

"..."

I was surely competing with his food for his attention.

"Shit." He muttered. And that cutlet in his hands had already disappeared. "Shit."

"I know, right? Unless that was a bad 'shit', like I'm-having-an-allergic-reaction 'shit'."

"That was," He eyed his grease-coated hands, then at the plastic box lounging lazily by my legs, with a conflicted alliance between disgust and wonder, "That was really something."

"That was just Levi's cryptic way of saying it was amazing." I offered my commentary coolly. A passer-by eyed me as they strolled towards the intersection that held back flocks of people from spilling into street gutters as if I was talking to them.

"It's literally restaurant leftovers on discount. And a stale baguette from the corner store."

"Whoa whoa whoa," I pointed at his ride, parked intrusively at the bottom dust-bitten brick steps two feet away. It whimpered at my unwelcomed attention. Or it could have been that it's so shit, it was a sentence away from collapsing on itself. I wouldn't be surprised if no one bothered trying to steal the clusterfuck. And I waited for it to come crashing, just to prove my point.

"We could have had the full restaurant experience if it weren't for that precious child of yours that you couldn't find a legal parking spot for."

"Bitch, leave my bike out of this."

"I will if you let me have the rest of the box."

He slapped my hand away and handled the container protectively, "Oh no, you don't."

"You know they commercially claim products as being better than sex, right?"

"Are you fucking serious?"

"When am I ever not?" My finger pointed at the discounted delicacy flaunting its grease seductively, "Now the chef can commercially claim this chicken better than sex. Unless they got sued for copyright or something."

"Not that you would know anything about sex, alright?"

"Well, do you?"

"Do you really want the answer to that?"

His smirk grew to the scrunching of my nose. One of those mischievous eyes narrowed. A beckoning gaze was sharpened as he peered over his shoulder, exposing a humble patch of crusty blood, to the cold timber of the locked cathedral doors looming grandly behind, "Or are you worried about a higher being listening in?"

I could feel a fissure in the teasing aura emitted from the boy as I reached over towards his nape. Waves of movement swelled under his shirt. A bob of his Adam's Apple. Yet, he hadn't recoiled to the brush of my thumb against the cracked cake of gore wedged in his pale skin.