Return to sender

Hostility

The air ran cold as if you were sitting outside, any warmth from your tea now gone as icy accusation and tension crackled like an electric storm was on the way, the hairs on your neck prickling whilst two men stared each other down, your lover on his feet and glaring into the eyes of whoever had approached the table. He was much older, bald head and weathered skin suggesting time spent doing a testing job out in the elements and his ruddy complexion screamed alcohol abuse. What worried you wasn't how Levi clenched his fists or the determination in his gaze, no. What was really concerning lay in the other man's watery orbs, a sense of triumph or perhaps glee - whatever the reason, he was certainly enjoying having bumped in to his old acquaintance and he grinned, yellow teeth exposed before speaking.

"Well? Don't have anything to say, Ackerman?"

"What could I possibly want to say to you?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe sorry?"

"Sorry?! Are you actually kidding me?"

"You are the one responsible for my son serving years in prison, aren't you?"

It all slotted together, the identity of the unwanted guest now clear and you stared up at the still strangely joyous father who had seen his offspring incarcerated for such heinous crimes. A twitch from his arm distracted you, fingers fiddling at a pocket and you saw a flash of something disturbing, stomach clenching as you realised that this would not just be a simple exchange of words. Levi noted it too, betraying his faster heart beat with a bored exterior and he tutted, ready to make a comment which could backfire horrifically.

"No Pixis, I'm not responsible. His filthy fucking behaviour is."

Your lover sat again, hand cradling his tea as if nothing untoward was occurring and he shrugged once to you, unspoken messages sent from dangerous silver - in that moment you both shared knowledge of the situation, the gravity that laid heavily across the coffee shop and the background noise of people going about their days faded into a blur, muted tones creating a buzz of sound akin to an angry swarm of bees. This man apparently had nothing to lose, his threadbare clothing and practically manic golden eyes speaking volumes and as predicted, he dragged a chair up to the table, wooden scrapes piercing into your brain which you struggled not to flinch against.

"Well. I'm going to need a drink my boy." The eldest of your reluctant trio leant back in his seat, fingers laced across his chest and a broad smile shining out from beneath a rather unruly moustache, one which probably used to be well kept but had suffered over the years. If he hadn't been so sinister looking, the guy could have appeared to be kindly, perhaps once was, yet now he harboured malice and revenge. Levi didn't move, would see hell freeze over before he left you alone in the presence of such an individual and simply ignored the request, sipped at hot liquid and tried to formulate some way out of this - Pixis was clearly in it for the long haul, wouldn't be swayed and was on the wrong side of sanity, a fatal combination which made your situation all the more grave.

Something made you look up, hands wringing under the table and your scared gaze rested upon sombre blue, the barista staring over with sympathy and a sense of knowledge. You'd been aware of Levi conversing with him upon arrival and they seemed to be old friends, happy to see each other and the slow blink you were treated to sealed your actions.

"I'll get the drinks."

"(F/N), you don't..."

"I know I don't have to Levi, but we're not going anywhere, are we?"

You spoke particularly harshly, stating the facts in a manner which didn't fit your personality, something which Levi thankfully picked up on.

"Fine."