thrill me, chill me

I'm a little panicked, but somehow he's remaining calm, and that soothes me just a little. Then, he's chastising me for blaming myself and offering (or, rather, insisting on) to replace my drink and I'm a little overwhelmed and confused. He seems nice enough, though, so I'm about to tell him what I had when he mentions my sketchbook.

He's so pretty, it's the one thing replaying over and over in my mind as I watch him leave to put together whatever this mind-blowing concoction will be. Knowing this restaurant and the brothers, it's going to be amazing.

I'm a bit taken aback when he seats himself across from me, but I'm pleasantly surprised. It makes sense he'd want the opinion of a loyal customer, and, like I said, I am in here like clockwork. I shouldn't be so disappointed by this!! It's a good thing! But I can't shake the feeling that maybe my little crush was about to get somewhere.

I swallow my silly little hurt feelings and tuck in to the meal. It's divine, and I'm not sure what exactly he's done to make it this good, but I moan the kind of sound you only get when you feel a certain way. He's immediately asking me what I think, and his eagerness is so cute, I can't contain my smile.

It wasn't that I was being inattentive, I am, but that isn't what happened this time. I was focused, watching the players on the court warming up, about to whip out my sketchbook and pencil and get to working.

Figure drawing is one of the best ways to practice forms and anatomy, and what better way to study than indulging in my favorite sport, while also having live models right before me?

I'd reached for a sip of my tea, only to suddenly be startled as someone plopped down in the seat beside me. Without a firm grip the cup slipped from my hands and unceremoniously tumbled to the floor, spilling it's contents.

A moment of silence for my fallen comrade was cut short as the man made to apologize, and it was then I got a good look at him.

Pretty was the first word that came to mind. Handsome, the second. Could this divine creature really be the silent assailant? He cringed, eyeing the spilled beverage, and offered a replacement.

The highlight of visiting the little hole-in-the-wall ramen shop wasn't the delicious food or the in-house made noodles. It wasn't the brand of tea they served or the cozy atmosphere. It was him.

Always with a bright smile and a sweet compliment, always with the good conversation and jokes. Handsome, and sweet and such good company, I find myself drawn to him again and again. I wonder if it's coincidence that he's always the one to serve me, as opposed to his twin.

Mikey almost never walked quickly like this, so I knew things were a bit more serious than id thought. He really must not have liked the events that had taken place.

The night air is cool on my skin, it feels nice after being inside with bodies packed around me. I only get a moment to enjoy it, though, because I'm being pinned against the cold bricks. My eyes widen slightly at the feral look on my paramour's face.

My gaze flickers down to his pretty lips when he talks. So lovely even when tinged with poison, how could he ever think I would even look at another man?

I bring both of my hands up to cup his cheek softly, and meet his frantic stare. "I'm yours, darling. I've always been only yours. All of me."

I tentatively lean forward just a bit to press my lips against his, a soft quick kiss to seal my promise. I hope I can get through to him, because as much as he feels for me, I feel the same for him. I might be less overt, but the urge to lay waste the life of anyone who thought they could take him from me was overwhelming.

I turn to face him fully, crossing one leg over the other and leaning against the bar with an elbow on the counter.

"No, but it looks like you could use it," I rake my gaze over him, he's not dressed in his military fatigues today, but it's still obvious that he is, in fact, the Captain.

The connotations in his words make me blush despite myself, I should be feeling angry or upset probably, but knowing that he gets possessive over me makes me happy. Thinking that he can't stand the thought of anyone else even looking at me makes my heart race.

My lovesick look betrays me, I'm sure of it, when he takes my face in hand. My gaze lingers on him even as he turns me to face the other man, who I hadn't actually noticed. How could I when Mikey himself eclipses the sun?

When he kisses me I positively melt into him, a quiet whimper that's stifled by his lips against mine. Truthfully I'd be happy with either option, as long as he keeps kissing me. As long as he keeps making me feel like the only person who matters.

"Mikey-" I whisper. When had I balled my fists into his shirt? When had I so completely leaned into him? He always had this way of making me forget myself, I just can't help it around him.

I feel heat creep into my face at his accusation, it isn't like that, per se. Simply seeking validation from others who are less busy doesn't feel like a bad thing. He should know I only have eyes for him, right?

Right?

The best way to unwind after a long day dealing with the upper echelon is to drink, at least that's what I decided a long time ago. Takes the edge off, at least. Washes out the bad taste.

This bar, in particular, is my favorite, mostly because those same snobby, stuffy rich nobles don't bother coming to a place like this. But also because it's a place frequented by far more interesting people.

People like Levi.

Levi, who would be recognizable from a mile away if you just paid attention. Who doesn't know of him? The great, strong, honorable Captain Levi of the Survey Corps? And, much to my surprise and delight, it's such a man who saunters over and plops himself down right beside me and orders a shot.

For what reason he's decided that I'M the one to sit beside is beyond me, but I'm not disappointed. He's handsome, a few inches taller than me, and well built. I glance over from the corner of my eye and he seems... angry isn't the right word, but the way he's staring into that empty shot glass tells me /something/ is going on in that pretty head.