#attack on levi

Pulling the loose dress over your head you pick out some white ankle socks, never being one to dress for anybody else but yourself, comfort is key and feeling good is the main goal. You glare at the reflection in the mirror staring wearily back at you, you feel more connected this time, yet you’re still unsure about who is staring back. Her eyes are sunken, her knees wobbly and her collarbones protruding in a boyish way. You wave off any ugly, intruding thoughts and slip your feet into the one pair of black shoes you own, you decide you’ll browse the shops before you finally head down to the local park.

Reaching for your shoulder bag you throw a couple of notes in, followed by a little pocketknife you had stolen from your father as a young girl, you can’t be too careful outside, especially wearing the branding of a working girl, everybody knows and nobody respects you except for a select few. You head out, closing the door and turning the key in the lock, you wear it around your neck with an old scrap of garden string.

You pass by Jools seat, occupied with one of the other men Boss employs whilst he was out with whatever emergency he was roped into, you notice that you miss him when he’s not here, the other stranger wouldn’t wish you a good morning on your way out.

Your mind wanders as you make your way towards the large, wooden doors in the entrance and you find yourself reminiscing over how much you’ve moved around, and how this has been your favorite base so far.

You’ve moved around a fair bit over the years as Boss has accumulated more money and has had more to spend on you. You’re currently located in a lard mansion, it has a sizeable forty rooms on each floor, with four floors in total, that’s without including the large ballroom, kitchen and diner rooms and a large lounging area. There is a basement too, full of rooms you’re forbidden from entering and a beautiful surrounding estate, it’s a secure, gated property, of course, so you can only leave with permission, given by Jools, with Boss entrusting him to be responsible with his decision. You’re allowed to freely roam the surrounding land; Boss even keeps a few horses that you and a few of the other girls happily care for. Hacking them on those gorgeous summer days and taking long afternoons just enjoying each other’s company, as an escape from your sad little lives.

You will often spend the summer evenings sat on the grass, allowing the sun to beat down onto your pale skin, allowing you to feel something, head buried in a book, escaping reality and taking ever-so-important time to yourself. The feeling of freedom you get is fleeting, but even that is enough to temporarily satiate your hunger to run away.

You look back over your shoulder and shout out to the man at Jools desk, “I’m going out into town, I’ll be back no later than six, you needn’t worry, I already have permission, it’ll say on my appointments tab on Jools computer!” he grunts, and waves you off, completely disinterested. You think back to the last time you were late home, true, it was an accident, you’d fallen asleep in the meadow and nightfall had come, Boss had sent out a search party, assuming that you had made a break for it and you could tell he was relieved more than angry when you were frog marched into his office and disciplined for your silly mistake. You shudder, thinking about Boss’s thick fingers coming into contact with your tiny throat, you live to please him yes, but it doesn’t mean you have like him.

As a direct result of your falling asleep and having a search party sent out for you, you weren’t currently a favorite between Boss’s men, with all of them being suspicious of you, expecting you to make a break for it at any moment. You were sure they’d had your face ingrained into the backs of their eyelids incase they ever saw you acting “suspicious”. You can hardly blame them but you do with they would stand down, it was exhausting having to calculate your every move, to stay out of the limelight as much as you could.

The streets are dotted with people, all busy and completely engrossed in their own perfect little lives, what you’d give to be able to live like them. A wave of sadness drowns you as you notice mothers and daughters, couples in love and shop keepers attending their stalls in the bright morning light. Your feet subconsciously decide your route as you make your way down the stone high street, enjoying the smells and sounds, the birds singing loud songs was like a beautiful music concert made just for you. You allow yourself to be completely immersed and wonder if you could slip away and never be seen again, if you could have that freedom one day, if you could be one of those mothers with daughters.

You swing a small glass door open and hear chimes ring as you step into your favorite hole in the wall café,

“Olive!” a voice booms from behind the bar as Mr. Benzo swiftly approaches you and pulls you into a bear hug, “we’ve missed you! Where on Gods given earth have you been!?”, you lean into the giant man and allow him to envelope you into a protective embrace, inhaling deeply, and imagining this to be what it is like to have a present father figure.

“Careful with her David! Hug her any tighter and you’ll snap the poor girl in half!” Mr Benzos wife stands a few feet behind, her aged and ring clad hands grasping together at her heartspace, “you’re wasting away my child! They cannot be feeding you! Come, you shall eat”, she gestures gently to a window bench, you are ushered over and take your seat, feeling utterly overwhelmed by the love coming from your favorite shop owners.

Mrs Benzo rushes herself around, building you a hearty spread, she grabs slices of bread, fruits, vegetables and slices of pies, laying them down at your table she grins, “whatever you don’t eat is going home with you”, she sighs, “and you shan’t pay a single penny, you’ll be blown away with the wind one of these days, think of it as an act of service. I mean look at you! Your eyes are so hollow that I’m afraid they’ll disappear into the back of your skull young lady!”. She brushes her finger against your protruding collarbone, you shudder, anxious at the touch of another woman, and at how maternal it was. She senses this and apologizes.

The Benzos know of your situation, they guessed as much after getting a glance at your brandishing. Mr Benzo had taken it upon himself to explain to his wife the full meaning. She had simply been heartbroken, set on spending every one of your visits spoiling and pampering you.

“Mrs Benzo, I cannot eat all of this, I might throw up, my stomach would not hold it!” You place a hand over your stomach and jokingly pat it, she tilts her head and smiles, letting out a small sigh.

“I’ve told you to call me Shirley, child. Enough with the Mrs Benzo. You are a friend here, remember that.” She sits quietly opposite you, watching you eat. Normally it might unnerve you, but her presence calms you today, you allow her maternal stares to engulf you, soaking in her care, allowing her to protect you, Lord knows you need it. David had gone back to serving customers, it was picking up into lunch hour, you hear his warming laugh as he makes conversation with them.

“Thank you… Shirley, it means so much to me, the way you treat me as a human, and an equal. You don’t see me for my brandishing, you see me as me. It’s refreshing.” You feel your eyes begin to ache as though they will cry again. She takes your delicate hand in both of hers, the warmth feels like a hug all over, you can see she has the same familiar feeling in her eyes. For a moment, you are the same. You feel safe. You feel loved. You are loved.

It gets uncomfortable for you to handle all these emotions and you pull your hand back, it’s too much vulnerability, Mrs Benzo understands, she knows it will take time for you to heal from your childhood trauma, and she has the patience of a lion, always willing to wait for you, you smile and continue to eat.

-

You leave Benzos with an abundance of food supplies, you’ll surely have enough to share with all the girls and Jools. Not that he needs it, he has enough supplies to last him a lifetime, after all. Smelling the air and closing your eyes, you turn and walk back towards the shops, enjoying the serenity of the early afternoon. You’re drawn into one stand in particular, a small jewellery stand, you approach quietly and notice a gorgeous emerald ring, it’s like it calls to you, you dare to reach out and touch it.

“You couldn’t afford that with all your life’s savings, silly whore.” A cold, harsh voice sounds from behind you, you turn, furious at the unnecessary comment directed your way.

“You really shouldn’t speak to wome…” you start.

“Do you know who I am? I will have you disappear if you so much as try to continue that sentence.” the cold voice shoots back. The voice grabs your wrist and pulls you close. It hurts, but you are used to being manhandled. You find yourself a little excited. Finally, something different. You slowly take in the voice’s harsh exterior. Smart black shoes, tailored black trousers, crisp and obviously ironed. A tucket white shirt and expensive cuff links. You inhale, expensive cologne, hints of pine and mint, you meet his eyes, staring into your soul, he licks his lips before continuing.

“You’re the little shit that missed her curfew. What on earth are you doing out here? Running away again?” his glare doesn’t falter, in fact, you’re sure it intensifies, your nerves are starting to get the better of you and you note that if looks could kill, you would be driving away in the back of a hearse right now.

“Speak.” The command is clear enough, yet a lump in your throat makes it impossible. You drink in his facial features, sharp and chiselled, like a God. His short black hair with a harsh undercut. It’s styled immaculately, not a single strand out of place.

“Are you a mute, whore?” the man continues, the grip on your wrist tightens, you whimper and plead with your eyes.

“No. You’re hurting me. I’m sorry, I’m allowed out now, I am. I have permission.” It practically falls out of your mouth as a measly cry.

“Do you expect me to believe that? I have half a mind to drag you by your hair back to Boss for questioning. You truly are moronic.” You consider arguing more, but deem it useless, this angry man is obviously set in his ways.

“Fine. Take me back, but I promise you, I can be out here.” You huff and stick out your bottom lip. It doesn’t go unnoticed, as the man slowly lifts his other hand, he rests his palm against your cheek and runs his thumb ever so lightly against your lip, you can sense his distraction and you curse your stupid, pouty lips. His eyes soften for a moment. Then he snaps back to reality.

“You will walk with me now, back to your house. Let’s go.” He loosens his grip on your wrist but does not let go. You begrudgingly begin the awkward walk back, nothing is said until you reach the gates.

The man buzzes the intercom and Jools answers, he must be back, internally, you relax, knowing that this will go a lot smoother than if the other man was still filling in.

“Olive? Is that you?” Jools questions, obviously anticipating your return, but not so early, his confusion is notable.

“It’s Levi. Open the gates.” The man answers back without emotion

Levi. You ponder on his name as you are practically hauled inside. You’re sure you’ve heard it before. Jools meets you at the entrance, he glances to Levi’s tight grasp on your wrist, you see the cogs going at maximum speed in his head and you know that he has assumed the worst.

“What have you done Olive?” His voice is flat but you hear the concern.

“She was out. Wandering around. Flaunting herself, like she is not on house arrest. Touching expensive jewellery, you should really pay more attention Wilkinson.” The use of Jools last name is alien, you’ve almost forgotten he has one.

“Levi” Jools begins cooly, he holds back a snort. “Olive is not on house arrest anymore, although I admire your commitment to your job.” You cannot make eye contact with Jools or you will be beaten for laughing, you are sure of it, Levi drops your hand like you have shocked him, he grunts and addresses Jools, “Wilkinson. Were you not one of Bosses favourites, I would break your nose. You are stupid to let her wander around alone. If I were in charge, I would leash her, like a little dog. A stupid, little dog.” you can tell this was one of his kinder name callings. “She has plans to get away. I can tell, and I’m warning you, she is not to be trusted,” Jools interrupts, his tone is equally aggressive as he bites back,

“Levi, Boss has not tasked you with worrying about the girls. You should go back to your real duties. Olive is my problem, not yours.”, You’re sure there is a little possessiveness behind his voice. For a moment, it is like Levi and Jools are facing off like two aggressive hunting animals, and you are the winning prey. Levi opens his mouth to say something, and then resigns himself, he sighs and turns away to leave.

“I will catch you when you try to run eventually, little puppy. And I will beat the living shit out of you for disrespecting Boss after everything he has done for you. Watch your back.”

He is gone before you can make a snide remark back, though you should know better, Jools would surely step in to protect you here, that you are sure of. You settle at sticking your tongue out in the direction in which he left, Jools laughs heartily.

“You stupid girl. There isn’t a person alive who has spoken back to Levi Ackerman, he is Boss’s right hand man, you should be more careful.” He ruffles your hair playfully.

“There is something about him Jools, that makes me want to provoke him. A feeling that he may not be capable of hurting me.” Jools snorts.

“You really are an idiot,” He pauses, “though there was something about the way he looked at you, like he wants to devour you alive,” he shudders, “creepy.”. Your cheeks blush, you would never say so aloud, but you might fancy the idea of being eaten by Levi Ackerman, Boss’s right hand man.

You breathe in and start, “I’m going to retire to bed Jools, I am tired. Give these pastries and pies to the other girls. Mrs Benzo sent them.” You hand the bag to Jools and smile. “What time is my first call tomorrow?” Jools looks at the screen of his computer, he clicks the mouse a few times and raises an eyebrow.

“10. Seems like Boss is set to be paying you a visit tomorrow. You’d better spend some time making yourself extra presentable tonight Ol, you want to remind him why you are worth keeping, and not discarding…” You shudder, Boss has made it abundantly clear that when you’re no longer deemed suitable as a working girl, he will send you away to be married off, or “dispose” of you, you don’t fancy either of the options and considering your savings are coming along nicely, you won’t have to endure this all for much longer.

“Thanks Jools. Love you.”. You turn on your heels and head back to your room. You spend the evening showering, shaving, sugaring and cleansing every inch of your body, ready for tomorrow, your mind keeps wandering back to a particular pair of sharp eyes and a chiselled jaw. How he would leash you and “beat the living shit out of you.”

You shake away the thought one last time and retire to bed. You close your eyes and pull your blankets up.