Levi Who?

   Hearing the material of worn soles crossing from the hallway into the conference room, Estella looked up. It had been nearly two hours since the meeting had ended. Two hours. Where had time gone? It must have escaped somewhere within the writings she noted on antiquities from Cyprus, and exhibit resources for ancient Cypriot art. It seemed the assistant curator beneath her for the department had been lacking, but Estella hadn’t ever minded extending herself towards good measure at work. Half of the time it hadn’t even seemed like such a task, it wasn’t daunting, but more pleasurable. 

   A small sigh escaped her lips as her mind forced her pen to finish the last structured sentence in her head. “I know.” Another sigh, this time more defeated. “I’m working through my lunch, again,” dark brows raised, and her hands began to collect the papers scattered on the table top. They may have seemed dysfunctional to the eyes, but she had her own display of organization. “Habitually…but there are far more worse habits I could be doing?” A small smirk curled up at her lips. “Did you need the room— or ?”

@thelevivale​

Levi laughed as she announced that she had worked through her lunch again, it was something he did quite often. Sometimes he didn’t have time to sit down at a restaurant to eat and had to just each whatever leftovers he had in his office or save the leftovers for when he stayed late. “There are far worse habits,” he laughed. “I think working hard is the best habit one could have compared to the countless others.” 

The way he portrayed himself and how he spoke, it put Frankie more at ease and so she maintained the pleasant expression she was sporting on her face. At least he wasn’t dismissing her even though she’d had no clue what he had just spoken about regarding the temple. 

“Oh, Oceans 8….now when it comes to movies I do have some knowledge of those….obviously I wasn’t paying enough attention though when I watched that.”

A cheeky smirk was thrown in his direction before she nodded at his next words.

“I never really did well when I was at school…and I never went to college or anything either…but okay…out of interest…humour me…what are you talented at?…looking at you…I’d say there’s gotta be something.”

“It wasn’t a big thing in the movie,” Levi told her. “It focused more on the Met Gala aspect and you could see it in the background. But my eye was drawn to it because I work here and see it everyday. So I’m sure most people didn’t even notice it like I had,” he mused. 

“There are 9 types of intelligences and schools only zero in a few of those so people who would strive in different fields often don’t get that opportunity to explore it within a classroom setting. I took an intro to psychology class and it is surprising to see what sticks,” he joked once he realized he had gone off on a random tangent. “Uh, I don’t know!” Levi laughed as he tried to think of something. “I’m good with art history- does that count?”

                    “What’s wrong with that is a stark six foot and carrying a violin,” the ophidian deadpanned, raising a brow as russet hues traveled back from the man to the countenance of the Vale before her. “Not rich enough for a town car?” She mused in unbiased succession, finding it effortless to feign her ignorance to all that she knew of the Vales.  

The woman had to fight the urge to scratch at the back of her neck to relieve the tension building there. The question seemed so mundane considering. How was she? Well… “I’m good, thank you. How are you, Levi?”

                    “Well, I’m sure all the useless facts we have about art, outweighs useless facts on any other subject,” he chuckled, knowing full well that the profession of an art restorer like himself was seen as fairly humdrum and unsavory to most. To Elliot, however, it was an enthralling subject, yet he could admit the process as a whole was surely tedious. “I’d much rather come to walk the entirety of Central Park than I would being holed up in a cramped tourist venue.”  

                    “Perhaps he was good in another life time; you know, before he didn’t look as if he was one off-key ballad away from insanity,” the ophidian snickered in grim fashion, shooting a look of repugnance at the male, before obsidian hues reverted back to the Vale beside her. “You take this horrid subway system every day?” Brows crinkled as if critiquing his choices now.

“No, it’s still on my phone.” She said with a heavy sigh. “I’m trying to give the damn thing the benefit of the doubt. I mean, I’m not hurting for a date, but this city gets… lonely. And please, don’t get me started on gender stereotypes and the absolute absurdity of roles based on sex. As if a man can do my job better because he has something dangling between his legs and a lump in his throat… No offense, your gender is sort of aggravating.”

“I feel like that you definitely dealt with the worst date ever so everything else would be good in comparison. Or at least I hope it would because having another date like that would be unfair to anyone,” he said. “Have you tried the other apps? I honestly don’t know much about them at all so I can’t say much about it at all,” he admitted. “Oh no argument there at all.”

“My––isn’t this the best possible turn of events,” it was a rare joy that she got to feel at that moment, something unanticipated and pure. “It seems that Oatmeal misses his humans too,” she commented, chuckling back in response, “and yes, that would be extraordinarily helpful, and I’ll make sure you get some credit too.” She assured him, smiling, only hoping now that her next stop would not be too far away, mostly for Oatmeal’s sake. “I guess it’ll have to be the address then, unless you have their phone number. I mean, I don’t wish to be intrusive.”

“Everyone wins in this situation,” he grinned. “I might have their number- I honestly don’t know if I do but I should. I might be a bad neighbor but this will help,” he laughed. “I’m was going to go get takeaway but I don’t need to so I can walk you there if you like.”