Walking Among Spirits (Levi x Reader) [REWRITE]

[ Chapter 8 ]

Content Warnings:

•Season 3/4 Spoilers
•Strong Language
•Narcissism
•Violence
•Needles
•Blood

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Flashback

Several questions had been pestering your mind lately and there was no relief other than asking to get them out of the way. After hanging out with your brother for a half hour, you finally built up the courage to open your mouth about them. "Quincy?" You spoke quietly, not sounding very confident in yourself. "Hm?" The older boy hummed as he read a book on his bed. "Can I ask you something?" You twiddled your fingers, sitting on the floor beside him. "Mhmm." He hummed again, flipping to the next page. Taking a deep breath, you decided to go through with the question, realizing it wouldn't hurt to ask. "What was mom like?" Just as you had suspected, the room fell more silent than it already was. Quincy had paused mid-sentence, finger still underlining his spot, eventually turning to face you. Before you could repeat the question, he spoke up instead. "I have to check on the dog." He mumbled, climbing off the bed and dashed down the hall.

Why won't anyone answer?

You sat in your brother's room for a moment longer before getting up, looking for your father. You found the man downstairs in the shop's storage room, reading a list to himself. "Dad?" You called out, standing in the doorway. "Twenty-seven, twenty-eight... hm? What is it, (nickname)? Twenty-nine..." He continued on with his current task, barely paying you any mind. "I wanted to know-" You began but immediately got cut off. "Oh no, we're not having the talk, are we?" Your father turned to look down at you with big eyes. "Wha-?! N-No! Dad!" You rolled your eyes, mortified. "Oh, good, just checking." Your father sighed and went back to his list.

"I said... I wanted to ask you about mom." You said quietly, already feeling like he wouldn't answer. "Shoot, sorry, kid, I gotta run out and make this delivery." Your father dropped his list, then, quickly gathered crates to take outside. "Hey, I'll be back this evening, so Quince will take you to that- um..." He stopped to try and remember the name. "Yeah, okay." You mumbled and turned to leave. "To see Tamara and your friends! The... the Girls Home!" He shouted when he finally remembered but you were already halfway up the stairs. When you reached the top, Quincy was standing there. "Hey, time to go to your 'I don't have a mommy' daycare." The lighter-haired boy brushed past you to head downstairs. "Don't call it that." You sighed and went back down again. The boy only shrugged and opened the front door, ready to step out. "And I can walk myself, thank you very much." You went straight out the door. "But dad sai-" Quincy tried to intervene but you cut him short. "Don't care." You were off to another day with the devil.

"This is taking forever!" You exasperated, dropping your fabric and sewing needle on the floor. "Chin up, Y/n, sewing requires a lot of patience. Your dress already looks lovely." Your strawberry-blonde replacement "mother" encouraged you with a sickeningly "sweet" smile. Only in public, she tried to make herself look good. "It looks like garbage." You made a face, defeated as you held up the sloppy work. You were pretty sure you sewed the skirt inside-out and didn't properly stitch a seam. All of that came true. All of your hard work had come undone. "I give up." You muttered, getting up from the floor when Tamara grabbed your arm. "Y/n, your stitches are too loose, see?" She pointed at the mangled thread. "And?" You raised a brow, not knowing anything about sewing. "They have to be close and consistent, otherwise it'll tear or fall apart if it's too tight or too loose." She showed you her own piece that was perfect.