Enamor |Violinist!Levi x Reader|

Enamor | 1 |

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On one side, moist wind carried minuscule tears of sleepless beings wandering in the dark, swearing upon their ill lucks, wishing find any stray piece of food to fill their contracted stomachs. On the other side of that devious glass door which separated the wealthy from the wretched, there were various mortals with valuable green papers dubbed as 'money' stuffed lazily in their rhinestone-studded pockets. Through this crystal-clear glass door, the poverty-stricken could see the affluent jubilate but couldn't reach them. All they could do was touch the vitreous material with their frail fingers and mourn.

A coarse, old- fashioned red diary with beige pages blemished by sloppily scribbled reviews was being held by palms half its size. "Let's see...Levi Ackerman, a famous violinist. Tsk, how can people pay shitloads for a single piece by him," you muttered as you clicked open the pen to write his name on top of a new page. "Rich self-pitying shits," you remarked with nose scrunched up in loathing.

A wise person once told you that wealthy people were like wolves, ready to chew those with the aura of fear grinded in their bones. You took that advice into consideration and tried to keep your fright to yourself.

"A fifteen minute show and I can finally publish another review in my blog." You entered the hall, the air filled with a thick and not to mention eye-tearing mixture of acidic perfumes belonging to those flamboyant and confident ladies who seemed to have no problem whatsoever sitting in such an atmosphere.'How can I forget,' you corrected yourself,'they are used to such things.'

There were so many distinguished people around you dressed in various colors and expensive stones. A lady caught your eye, her blonde hair were swept off her face into a cascade of thick and deliberately messy curls which framed her neck the gentlest way possible. But what got you snickering was that her dress was apple-red and coincidentally matched with the hall's seats, hence, justifying her frown.

You looked at yourself, feeling under-dressed in simple jeans and top. No wonder the security questioned if you had stolen the tickets to this show or not. Actually, your grandfather had gifted you these tickets for he himself had quite a taste in good old music which seemed to caresses his weak eardrums softly rather than damaging them with raging teenage songs. You tried your best to decline the gift as you only reviewed bands and not single musicians, let alone a violinist. Alas, failure followed. You sat on a plush seat in the front row, directly facing the stage. The ambience was light and not at all full of anticipation. You expected chatters but were encountered with patient waits from the audience.

'Bleh, etiquettes,' you inwardly groaned. The lights dimmed down apart from the soft glow focused on the string orchestra. All of them looked like pale inanimate dolls, only to serve as an entertainment source for the rich. But who can blame them? They were just trying to make money, aware of the fact that they had to bow down their heads in front of strangers.

It was truly a chaotic world. A rotten cycle of life.

You tapped your fingers against the armrest to show a little rebellion. Oppressive glances and hushes directed towards you, ceasing every movement of yours. You huffed, sinking down into your seat and opened the red diary, ready to write but were distracted by a small figure dressed in an unsullied tux walking towards the middle of the stage, announcing his arrival with a rather disturbing clicking of heels against the wooden floor. A shiny violin was being held by its neck as the famous violinist helped himself under a bright light focused at the center of the stage.

You felt like an outsider in such a place. His arrival seemed to breathe life into the hall, with sound of autumn rolling against you with swift and subtle crunch, bleeding inside every ear in the form of claps. He didn't seem to acknowledge the greetings but only a twitch of his nose told you that he too didn't have a liking for the strong scent that permeated the hall's air.