One Of A Kind (Levi X Reader) AU

34. The Telephone Booth

Levi's POV

"So...are you going to put me down now? People are giving us weird looks. What you're doing is not common here and we shouldn't be attracting attention even if it means that we have to slow our pace down a bit."

"Sure," I put her down abruptly, shocking Y/N a bit.

"Be careful!" Y/N instructed, "I could've fallen!"

"But you didn't."

"But-."

"Shut up and look for coins," I ordered as Y/N pouted but complied nonetheless because she knew that we did need the money.

Two hours. That's what it took us to find the money but Y/N was quite satisfied with the result, saying that it could be worse.

We headed to a telephone box and Y/N used the machine as if it was second nature to her and dialed a number that I was surprised she remembered since no one took the time to actually memorize phone numbers these days and I, myself only had the numbers of a few close friends memorised.

After dialing, Y/N waited for a few seconds, biting her lip in anticipation and nervousness because what would happen if the person she was calling didn't pick up? We would have to get more money to call someone else or call this person again and it easily took us so many hours to get money for one phone call; it would take even more for the second.

"Hey, it's me," Y/N said after a few seconds, "Code is.... Hold on a second," Y/N paused and ushered me out of the telephone booth even though it was snowing.

This little shit. I carried her all the way here.

But I still left the booth without protest because I knew she wouldn't say the code in front of me.

I'll deal with her later.

In about 30 seconds, Y/N put the telephone's phone back in its socket and came out.

"It's done. I asked my contact to hook us up with someone he knows who lives around here."

"How do I know your friend is trustworthy?" I glared.

"Bruh," Y/N looked at me, unimpressed, "Wear a mask to protect your identity if you want. Just like I'm wearing mine but for different reasons."

"Do you have a guarantee that they won't hand us back to the prison?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I know everything about the guy," Y/N started, "From his real name, where he lives to even his wife and kids. Trust me, people don't mess with people who aren't afraid to mess with their family."

That is...quite a good quote.

And now I kind of feel intimidated by her.

"We just have to cut half an hour and we'll be picked up at this location," Y/N started, "Let's just wait in the telephone booth. We can't go to a cafe or bar because we have no more money and not a store because there are the store clerks and I look too injured to look normal and you look too French to look Russian."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I snapped.

"Look at your body language," Y/N started, "Everything about you screams French. The way you are standing, your posture, your accent. Everything. At least I can change my body posture to pretend to be one of the place's people. Now, be honest, I do live in America but can you be sure where I was born and raised by my posture, accent and everything?"

"I...," I paused, "No...."

"Because I blend into the people of the place where I go. So you can truly never know unless I tell you."