"Did you poison this?"
Your eyes widen at Levi's question. "Did I poison your drink?"
The man blinks at you as he holds his cup in hand.
"Why would you think that I'd poison it?"
The man shrugs as he fixes his uniform which seems to be his second skin as you've never seen him without it.
"You seem to dislike me heavily Madame."
You bite the inside of your cheek as you notice that he hasn't touched his food either.
"Would I invite someone that I dislike to my estate for lunch?"
"If you planned to kill them, yes."
Your lip quivers, "Again, I apologize for my...uncouth words about you the other day. Sometimes I just get irritated about my life. It's hard being a noble, I have a lot of responsibilities and sometimes I lash out."
He blinks, "I'm sure the lower class would love to say the same thing."
Your eyes suddenly widen at his bold words.
Does he really think he's in a position to call me out?
"I'll let you know, I do a lot to help the lower class around here! Everyone that's been through my estate has received my help one way or another. What have you done?"
"Ah, there it is."
You raise a brow, and for the first time, he bites into the food that your maids have prepared.
"What?"
"This food tastes like shit."
"Huh?"
Your face twists and your fists ball, never in your life had you met such a swine in a suit such as him.
"The food doesn't taste all that good, and this bird is still chirping. And I was also referencing that you've dropped your charade."
"Charade?"
You sound like one of your friend's pet parrots.
"Charade. You can't expect me to believe that someone who couldn't stand the sight of me suddenly wants to feed me on their luxurious estate. You dislike me Madame, and that's fine. What's not fine is you lying to me, now what do you want?"
He sips from his tea that you had the maids make for him as well since you noticed he likes it so much.
"This tastes like shit as well."
You stand, and your hand slams the table making it shake a bit but he doesn't falter, if anything, one of your maid's gasps and drops what's in her hand, but you don't pay her any mind as you stare a hole into Levi's head.
"I've never been disrespected on my own estate before like this. I prepared the tea to your liking, and made a dish inspired by what I thought you would eat at your own home. Yet you throw curses at me, and decide to disrespect my character. I should have you thrown out immediately!"
Your chest heaves as you attempt to catch your breath, you shouldn't be so temperamental, so emotional, and you usually never are. But you've never been talked to like this before by anyone.
"Then do it."
"Excuse me?"
"I said do it Madame, call your guards to throw me out of your estate, or just ask me to, and I'll leave."
He doesn't even break a sweat at your little show that you've put on.
"Do you mind if I smoke?"
You stand flabbergasted as he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, he ignites it and the smell of it clogs your nostrils and you immediately start to cough.
"You've never smelt a cigarette before?"
You scoff as some kind of apology never falls from his lips, "Mother doesn't allow smoking on the estate."
You swear you hear him snicker at your words.
"Your mother doesn't? Well, do you mind if I bend the rules a bit? I haven't had one all day and my skin's starting to crawl."
He drags it to his pale lips, and turns to blow the smoke in another direction, the most courteous thing he's done all day.
"So madame, are you kicking me out? Or do you wish for me to stay?"
He drags from his cigarette again, and you massage your knuckles as you stare at him, you didn't expect him to be like this. You expected him to be cocky and abrasive like most soldiers that you had encountered, instead, he was blunt and cold.
"I want you to stay."
But no matter how angry you were at him, you still had a mission that you needed to stay true to.
You sit in your seat and watch him as he continues to fill his lungs with tobacco.
"Those paintings, why are they there?"
Your brow rises, "What paintings?"
He tilts his head and you look at what he's talking about. Your eyes widen at the series of paintings that align the outside walls.
"Those paintings shouldn't be out here, they'll be damaged easily."
You bite your cheek, "They were placed out here to add to the scenery."
"Who made them? I've never seen anything like those before."
You bite into your food as he continues to smoke.
"You wouldn't have, they're mine."
For once he breaks character and raises a brow, "You paint?"
You nod, "Yes, in my free time."
He nods, and just as he's broken character, he falls back into it.
"Why would your own paintings be outside? They won't last long out here. I'm sure there's plenty of room in your estate. There isn't a maid with too much room for her little belongings?"
Your lips purse at his obvious shot at your character once again.
But as you actually think over his question, you look off.
"Mother doesn't want them inside unless they're professionally made."
"Professionally made?"
He looks as if the words taste sour on his tongue.
"Professionally made. Like Dubuffet, Breton, and Derain."
"Not even Eugène Delacroix or Camille Pissarro?"
You raise a brow at the century-old names.
"You know your French artists?"
He nods as he pulls from his cigarette again before blowing air out.
"Before the war, I studied it a bit."
Your eyes widen.
Before the war
You had almost forgotten that he was more than just a soldier.
But he's a German soldier nonetheless
Your fists clench at your thoughts.
"No, no Pissarro or Delacroix, she prefers to be with the times. Now, I meant to ask you about your commander-"
"You would think she'd understand that she landed on a gold mine. Art is all about doing something no one's done before."
You huff, "Please stop interrupting me Monsieur- wait."
You pause, "You said my art is a goldmine?"
He nods, "It's different from what I've seen before. It shouldn't be outside to rot."
Your cheeks heat at the compliment, no one in your life had ever noticed your art before. The most recognition that you've ever gotten was side-eyed looks from your mother before she would ask one of the maids to place it outside with the rest.
"T-Thank you."
You gasp as you don't expect yourself to become so easily flustered by his comment. You should feel pathetic, and you feel no better than a school girl who was complimented by her crush. This was supposed to be a professional meeting, yet it was everything but that.
"No problem."
He stands and your eyes widen, "You're leaving?"
"I am, I have important business to attend to. Have a good day Madame."
He doesn't give you much room for words as he leaves the table. "Au revoir."
You bite your cheek as you watch him walk away. But as he uses the garden door, you notice he pauses for all but a second in front of your art. His eyes meet yours once more before turning around and disappearing behind the door.
And for the first time in what felt like hours, you breathed.
What just happened?
On that day, Y/n had learned a bit more about the soldier Levi Ackerman. And little did she know, Ackerman had also learned a lot about her as well.