The heavenly scent of garlic and tomato sauce happily greeted Eren's sensitive nose as he stepped through the threshold of his house and out of the frigid outside air.
"Where have you been?" mumbled his sister around a mouth full of apple as she emerged from the kitchen.
"Hello to you, too," Eren muttered, kicking his soaked shoes off. "And I was looking for a job."
"Again? Don't you think if someone was gonna hire you, they would've done so by now?" She plopped down onto the couch.
"Yeah, and that's why they did," the male shot back, already annoyed by her attitude. "Where's mom?"
"Kitchen."
The little brat didn't even seem to notice what he'd said. Whatever.
Eren sauntered into the kitchen - the source of the heavenly garlic smell - to find his mother chopping mushrooms and sliding them into the steaming pot of spaghetti sauce from the cutting board. She was oblivious to him entering the kitchen, so he took advantage of the opportunity and snuck up behind her. Gently grabbing her shoulders, he shouted, "Bah!" Not so surprisingly, she didn't so much as flinch, but grinned.
"Nice try, hon," she said.
The brunet sighed, pretending to be disappointed. "You're unscarable."
She winked at him and moved to put the rest of the mushrooms in the sauce.
"After years of your father pulling stunts like that, I've gotten used to it," she explained.
"Dad did that?"
"All the time. How did job hunting go?"
Before picking a grape off the stem from the basket on the table and popping it in his mouth, Eren said, "Great for once. I found one."
Carla turned, eyebrows raised. "Did you? Where?"
Around another grape, he mumbled, "That tattoo shop a few miles north of here. I went in for an application and the owner interviewed me instead and hired me on the spot."
Carla turned, evidently a bit suspicious with an eyebrow just slightly raised in his direction. "Eren, no offense, but you're a terrible artist, how-"
Eren chuckled. "No, no, I'm not an artist. I'm just an assistant. I'm supposed to help keep things organized and stuff."
Relief replaced the mild suspicion on the woman's face. "Oh good. Go tell your sister to wash up. Dinner's almost ready."
"Kay." Eren popped one last grape between his lips as he exited the kitchen. Mikasa was still lounging on the couch, mesmerized by the television as she absently fidgeted with the apple core. The elder teen snatched a pillow off of the reclining chair as he passed and chucked it at her, calling, "Get ready to eat."
The girl was broken out of her reverie by the pillow hitting her right in the face. Her fingers clamped around the apple core as she turned to glare at her brother, but he was already halfway up the stairs, chortling at her expression as he went.
At dinner, Carla opened up to speak about something Eren had feared from the minute he was hired at the tattoo shop. As soon as she opened her mouth, he knew what was coming and sighed internally.
"Eren, I'm so glad you managed to find a job after looking for so long. I just want you to be extra careful. A lot of bad things can happen around or in places like those..."
"Places like what?" Mikasa asked. She'd been trying to kick Eren under the table as payback for him chucking the pillow at her - unbeknownst to Carla - but was so far unsuccessful.
"Tattoo shops," verified Carla.
Laughter erupted from the girl's throat; she sputtered up her milk. "Eren a tattoo artist? Good one. He can't even draw a stick figure."
Eren glared in his sister's direction. "Like you're any better, Mikasa. I'm not gonna be an artist or anything. I'm just an assistant," he spat.
As she slurped a noodle between her lips, she held her hands up in surrender.
"Anyway, hon, as I was saying," Carla continued, ignoring their banter, "I need you to be careful. I'm not saying I have anything against tattoos or people who have them, but places like that have something of a reputation for getting tangled up with the law. I trust you, but I don't necessarily trust them. If you feel something is off - anything at all - I want you to get out of there."
Eren gave her a sweet, reassuring smile despite his mild internal annoyance. "You don't need to worry, Mom. I'm not an oblivious little kid anymore. I know how to be careful."
Carla's soft hand covered her son's on the table as she returned the smile. "I know you do, but I'm your mom and worrying is my job. I'm just reminding you." She finally turned her attention back to her dinner. "By the way, when do you start?"
"Tomorrow."
"So soon?"
"Yeah. They really need help already."
"What about school?"
"Reiner said they'll work around that schedule. I have it all worked out, Mom. Don't worry about any of it."
"How much are they paying you?" Mikasa piped up.
"Twelve an hour to start."
Mikasa's jaw dropped. "Already?! That seems like a lot."
Eren half-shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, I'm not arguing with it."
"It's pretty good, Eren. Now you two, finish eating and get started on your homework."
Two hours of on and off studying later, Eren passed out, fully clothed, on his bed. He was awoken by the annoying buzzing of his nearly dead phone on the table next to him. Groggily, he rolled over and picked it up to see a text from Armin.
|Where are you?|
Suddenly, the brunet became aware of the time. 8:17 AM. 'Shit, I'm late,' he thought irritably. He shot his friend a quick reply.
|Slept late. Be there b4 math.|
With that, he plugged his phone in and rolled out of bed. The cold shower and hot cup of coffee did almost nothing to chase the sleepiness out of his body. He found himself dragging his feet as he shuffled past his mom and out the door, calling out a goodbye.
He perked up throughout the day, especially telling his friends about his new job. They had mixed opinions about it, but Eren was glad to be helping his mom out. Near the end of his last class, he found himself nibbling on his nails out of nervousness for his first day of work.
Upon walking in, greeted by the antiseptic-like smell and buzzing noise of a tattoo machine, he noticed the scene before him to be quite the same as the previous day. Reiner Braun, the owner, was nowhere to be seen, though two of the artists were so busy at work they didn't even seem to notice Eren's entrance. He stood there awkwardly for a minute, unsure of what to do until Reiner appeared from the back doorway.
"Hey, you made it! That's fantastic!" he said in a cool tone through a casual grin.
While the female artist in the back continued her work on tattooing something on someone's butt, - yes, his butt - the other, smaller male looked up. Eren paid neither of them any attention; his mind was set on getting to work.
"Well yeah. I'm not really one to flake out on work," he admitted. "Especially on the first day."
"Cool. Well, uh here, introductions." The large blond man gestured to the red-headed female to his left who was still hard at work on the guy's butt. "This is Petra."
At the sound of her name, the redhead looked up. She gave a pleasant smile and a soft "hello" upon seeing the new addition to the room. She was kind of cute, Eren decided, though not in a way where he'd want to take her out, but rather in the way he found his little sister cute. It felt weird, seeing as this girl was likely quite a bit older than him, but he didn't have time to analyze that as Reiner was gesturing to the other male to his right.
"And this is Levi."
This one, too, had gone back to his work and elected to look up once he heard the sound of his name. Immediately, the teen felt something stir within him as his eyes met the stormy gray ones from across the room. It was strange and foreign and he quickly smothered it. The two studied each other for a split second; in that instant, Eren noticed his raven-black hair all flopped onto one side of his head - clearly a Mohawk. He noted narrow, slate gray eyes beneath dark, thin brows - the right one pierced with a simple silver spike; his long, straight nose fitting his almost delicate features perfectly; the two small metal studs in the center of his lower lip; several piercings in his ears and, lastly, the almost impossibly pale shade of his skin. Eren hadn't the time to perceive anything further before the artist mumbled "sup" in a surprisingly deep voice and went back to coloring a snake on the thigh of a girl who had seemingly dozed off.
"Petra, Levi, this is Eren," Reiner continued. Said teen said his own hello, though he got the feeling neither of the artists were paying any attention to him. "They're two of three artists we have working here at this point," the owner explained. "The third is myself. Come on, let's get started." The tall blond man who, other than his face, seemed to be completely covered in ink, waved Eren back through the doorway he'd emerged from. Eren followed quietly as Reiner spoke.
"Right now I haven't had much time to be giving anyone any ink myself because I've been busy cleaning up this mess." He pushed aside a curtain of plastic to reveal a room that looked more like a mobile home park after an F5 class tornado hit. There were boxes of different supplies scattered and spilled everywhere there should've been floor.
"Holy sh-" Eren began, but stopped himself.
Reiner only laughed. "Holy shit, right? I know, it's pretty bad. Remember that earthquake that hit a couple months ago? This is the after effects of that, at least back here. We finally finished refurbishing the shop itself two weeks ago and started business back up again. That was the priority, so we haven't worked on this mess yet. If I want to keep business up, I'm gonna have to work myself, too, so that's where you come in."
"Don't you have insurance...?"
Reiner's cheery attitude faded a bit and he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but they would only cover the shop itself. Said it wasn't as bad back here, I guess. 'Hire someone else to take care of this'," muttered Reiner in a mocking voice. "Well, I took their advice and here you are. Sorry I didn't tell you about this mess yesterday. I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn't take the job." The large man smiled in mild guilt. "Probably not the best move on my part."
"No worries," replied Eren, cracking his knuckles for good measure. "I can handle."
Reiner laughed loudly, leaving Eren's eardrums ringing. 'Note to self: never stand too close to Reiner; he's loud,' he thought.
"That's good to hear." He got to work demonstrating how to repackage the supplies, how to seal them back up and where to put them once finished.
"Got it?" he asked once his explanation was over.
"Piece of cake," said Eren.
"Sure, till you get bored," joked Reiner.
"No worries," said Eren again with a smirk, pulling his neatly wrapped headphones from the pocket of his Supernatural hoodie. "It can't get too boring if I've got music."
Reiner playfully smacked Eren's shoulder and said, "I'll leave you to it, then. You can take a break in an hour or so."
Eren nodded and watched Reiner leave; his shoulder still throbbed from Reiner's enormous hand smacking it. He rubbed it, stuffed his headphones in and hit 'shuffle' on one of his favorite artists - Imagine Dragons - and got to work.
Repackaging tattoo supplies turned out to be easy and mindless once he memorized the order to put them in the boxes. He got into a groove of sorts with his music as he organized the boxes he'd worked on in the corner.
He didn't even here the, "Oi, brat," coming from the doorway until his left headphone was yanked out. His head snapped up to find Levi standing next to him, headphone dangling between his slender fingers. As Eren's own turquoise eyes met Levi's semi-annoyed gray ones, he felt the same strange stirring within him as before.
Ignoring it, he mumbled, "Sorry. What's up?"
"Tch. I finished tattooing if you want some help."
At first, Eren was going to decline. He enjoyed the mindless activity; it gave him time alone with his thoughts, but as he looked up at Levi, some unknown force inside of him made him say, "Sure, thanks."
The raven let the headphone slip from his fingers as he sunk to the floor next to the brunet and began packaging the boxes. Awkwardness hung heavier in the air than the silence as they worked. Eren wracked his brain for something to say, to break the uneasiness.
"Was um...was Petra tattooing that guy's ass?" he asked. 'Really, Eren? That's what you think of to ask?' He inwardly slapped himself.
"Yes. Is that weird to you or something?" inquired the artist.
"A little," Eren admitted. "Can't that get infected easily?"
"Any tattoo can get easily infected regardless of location," Levi explained. It was at that point in which his nails began raking up and down his arms or his legs every so often. Eren hadn't missed the shakiness of his entire demeanor, either, especially when it came to his fingers as he packaged boxes. Still, he chose to ignore it.
"How many tattoos do you have?" Eren blurted, almost desperate to keep the conversation going and the awkwardness at bay.
"Eight."
That was easy to believe despite only part of one being visible. It was an ornate pattern of roses tattooed on the left side of Levi's neck, disappearing below his shirt. They were big, the color of blood. The vines decorated with thorns - part that wrapped up around his ear, particularly - were thin and intricate. The lines were smooth and impeccable.
For the most part, Eren's eyes had been focused solely on his work until that point, so he allowed himself to more closely observe the small man sitting just feet away and get a closer, more intimate look at him. Levi was thin, and ridiculously so - his cheekbones and eye sockets stuck out more prominently than it seemed natural beneath his alabaster complexion. Darkish circles surrounded his narrow gray eyes, giving him a sickly appearance. He'd be handsome, Eren decided, if it weren't for these features. No, he was already handsome, though those flaws did well in distorting that.
Eren tore his eyes away from Levi who, thankfully, didn't seem to pick up on his staring. Hastily, he reverted his attention back to organizing supplies, feeling a bit on edge.
"So, what got you into tattooing?" he asked in a strangely higher pitched voice than normal, desperate to make conversation and lighten the weight of his discomfort, if only a little. His heart was pounding so relentlessly against his ribs, he'd be damned if Levi couldn't hear it. This sudden rush of adrenaline he seemed to get as soon as Levi walked into the room was nearly unfathomable; try as he might, he couldn't ignore it.
"I was fifteen," Levi stated plainly. "I had some friends in high school who said I'd make a good artist, so I tried it out, found I like it, here I am."
Eren couldn't help feeling there was more to the story but decided against asking any further questions. For some reason, as they talked, he found he cared what this guy thought of him, though he normally wouldn't.
Between that, his adrenaline rush and his heart thudding mercilessly against his poor ribcage, he had a strong notion there was something much more to the reason he'd been hired there on the spot, more to Levi volunteering to help with the mess that was the back room, just something more, and it had to do with Levi. What, he did not know, but he felt determined to find out.
'Okay, get your shit together, Eren,' he told himself. 'He's just your co-worker. It's not like he's your soul mate or anything, jeez. Calm your balls.'
"What about you, brat? Why are you here?"
"Me?" Eren asked, startled by the sudden question.
Levi rolled his gray eyes. "No, the other brat in the room," he muttered.
"Oh. Um. My mom...she's unable to work...and my dad died a few years ago. We need the extra money, so..."
"Why can't your mom work?"
"Psychological issues."
The flash of a grin flickered across Levi's face so quickly, the brunet wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not.
"I know how that is," the raven murmured. The tiniest hint of sadness crossed his features and his fingers shook even more as he attempted to seal the box he'd been organizing. He was having difficulties, so Eren wordlessly reached over to lend his assistance. He was hyper aware of the warm sensation that crawled up his arm as their fingers brushed accidentally.
"Thanks," mumbled Levi.
"Sure. But hey, are you okay?"
Levi scratched at his thighs, keeping his eyes away from the teen's. "Fine. I should get going." Swiftly, he pulled himself to his feet. Eren followed suit, suddenly realizing how small Levi really was. He must've been three or four inches shorter than the teen at least.
Before Eren could stare much longer, Levi turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, running a shaky hand through his unruly black hair. Eren stared anyway, wondering what the hell was with the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach was as he stared at Levi's back.
He stumbled to follow the short man into the main part of the shop. To his surprise, the sun had completely disappeared below the western horizon, no doubt causing the already frigid outside air to be even lower in temperature.
"Hey, Eren," Reiner greeted from his own tattoo area from the front corner of the store. "How'd it go?"
"The brat's probably more organized than I am," Levi answered for him as he collected a leather jacket from the coat rack next to the door.
To that, Reiner's brows shot up. "Damn, really?"
"Hn, not quite. Anyway, I'm out of here. Later," said the short one as he exited the building without a backwards glance.
"What's with him?" Eren couldn't help but ask, eyes still fixed on the glass of the front door where the chain still swayed.
"Levi? Don't worry about him. He seems pretty unapproachable at first, and believe me, he is. I still have a hard time talking to him." Reiner chuckled. "But don't worry. He's really a pretty good guy. A neat freak, if you couldn't tell." Reiner gestured in the direction of Levi's work area, which was, of course, spotless. "He's an incredible artist, too." Reiner continued to point out some of the artwork hanging around. A lot of it was pretty gruesome and depressing. Strangely it, too, stirred something within the brunet teen. It was, however, incredible as Reiner put it. One that truly stuck out to him was a pair of battered hands cupping an anatomically correct heart. Unsurprisingly, the hands were bloodied. The heart itself was worn out and torn in places. There were stitches, too, though they'd given out and were unraveling.
What struck Eren the most, however, was the syringe plunged deeply into the heart. It was labeled with nothing more than a thick black X.
Eren stared and stared at it, wondering what the hell it meant other than the obvious thing. Levi didn't strike him as the type of guy to be depressed or anything, but one, he'd barely met the guy and two, some people were really good at masking depression. Eren should know, he'd been there himself once before.
"How recent is this?" Eren murmured, drawing closer to the piece of art.
"A few months I think," answered Reiner as he was closing up the shop. "Why?"
"Only wondering." Eren tore his teal gaze from the drawing and headed toward the door Reiner held open for him, fidgeting with his car keys inside of his pocket.
"Yeah, Levi's got a dark mind that I can't help but wonder about sometimes. But I try not to think too much into it. Anyway, Eren, thanks a lot for your help. Tomorrow same time, yeah?"
"Sure," Eren said with a semi-forced smile. "Have a good night."
"You too, man."
As Eren drove home, he couldn't seem to get the image of Levi's drawing out of his head, nor the way the artist's hands had been shaking and the way he was scratching at himself. He couldn't he shake the feeling both it and the man himself gave him, either. A phantom sensation lingered in his gut. Forcing himself to ignore it, he turned his music up and hummed along all the way home.