Birdie (Levi x OC)

sixty-eight

The next week in Marley was actually quite uneventful. We surveyed the old abandoned factory that Onyankopon had mentioned, deeming it good enough to double as a covert operations zone. Levi had looked at the building in disgust as we walked through it, which meant it was perfect; unmemorable and unimportant, especially to those passerbys.

Hange stretched her arms high above her head; yawning. We were currently in a cafe that was down the block from our hotel, our ragtag group filling up two tables. The cafe was unlike anything in Paradis. It was quaint but cute, decorated in heavy, maroon velvet booths and dark, polished wood, accented with brass fixtures that gleamed softly in the light. The air smelled warmly of sweet cinnamon and strong coffee; a drink that was common in Marley. Our warm drinks were brought to our table in delicate cups with fancy prints alongside the glass. The tables were clean, and there was music playing softly from a strange box in the corner of the room.

Levi, who sat next to me, had insisted on ordering a selection of pastries; flaky, sugar-dusted treats that were alien and marvelous to us all. He watched me as I cautiously took a bite of one filled with cream. I had eaten reliably since recovering, but the sheer, unfamiliar pleasure of the sugar and delicate flavors made me close my eyes briefly in quiet satisfaction. He offered no comment, but the slight easing of the tension around his mouth was a victory. After the miscarriage, every meal had been a chore; his unspoken relief at seeing me finally enjoy food again was a silent, deep form of care, a testament to my return to life.

I quirked my eyebrow at the music box, utterly fascinated by the source of the beautiful sound. I placed my hand on Levi's arm under the table and gave a quick, firm squeeze, letting him know I was fine, before pulling away and getting up.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod, tracking my movement as I walked away, wading through the tables to get a closer look.

The music was beautiful, a soft piano playing with other instruments I was unsure I had even ever heard before. It was a sound rich with complexity and layered tone; a sound that simply didn't exist behind the Walls.

"Wow," I breathed, eyeing up the box. It was perched on a wood table, its wooden body intricately carved. A circular black plate was sitting atop the box. It was spinning, and an arm coming out of the box was resting against it. I bent down, making myself eye level with the arm to see that the smallest of needles was pressed against the black plate, running between each groove.

Was this how the music came out? It felt like a small, controlled miracle; capturing sound and holding it inside a flat, black disc. I watched the silent, mechanical dance, utterly captivated by this fragile piece of technology.

I felt his presence beside me, causing me to look up. "This is incredible," I breathed to Levi. "I've never seen anything like it."

He raised his brow at the box. "It does sound good."

"It's unfair," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the chattering of the cafe. "This art and this culture and this food that is here, it's all so...." My voice trailed off, "beautiful."

Levi placed his hand softly on my back as I still admired the rotating disc on the music player. I straightened myself, sending him a soft smile. "Too bad we're devils. I guess we don't get to enjoy the finer things in life."

My attempt at a joke didn't make him laugh; instead he stared solemnly at his squad. I followed his gaze.

The chaotic energy that once defined the 104th had been replaced by a heavy, deliberate stillness.

"They've changed," I said to Levi, leaning into his side. "They're grown."

Levi nodded. "They're adults now. Still brats, though."