Carousel of Affection [Attack on Titan/Black Lagoon Crossover] [Complete]

Levi

Levi's Perspective

I should probably be readying myself for hearing Rokuro's mouth, whenever he reappears. I wish I could just chokehold him for his contradiction sometimes. I mean, I understand that I'm late on an often enough basis, but when I'm earlier than he is, he still gets worked up over absolutely nothing. I sighed, walking back to the front of the office building, where my section was. My job as a publisher, most often didn't involve reading papers; it was more of protecting the submitted content with a provided copyright as well as pressing it through. Which meant, email upon email.

I sat in my spinning chair, running a hand through my short, black hair. "Monday, oh how I hate thee..." I muttered to myself. My computer was on, ringing with synchronization to the full inbox of mine. I went over to the microwave across the hall to retrieve my coffee, which had just finished.

"You'd think someone who shows up an hour late everyday would've already had their fill of caffeine." Someone snarled off to my left at me.

I sighed, knowing exactly who. "Mr. Okajima, I live on the other side of town. How could I possibly-"

"And here we go with that excuse again," he said disapprovingly, "Some of your coworkers live farther than you and they're here on time or earlier!" I took two slender straws and mixed my coffee, trying to block out whatever he was ranting about this time. Usually, he'd yell at me if his night was terrible and unknowingly slip some of it out in his rant. I didn't bother to even look like I was listening; I only nodded when he was finished and went back to my desk.

I swear, I'd love to shove my foot up his ass, I thought to myself, starting to pan through my emails. Somehow, my email address was grouped in with the intakers, which meant I also received submissions. Anything with the subject "Submission" that I saw was forwarded to the intakers, mainly Linda.

For the past month, this one person who goes by "Shape Shifter" has been submitting, but never got published. I'm not sure why, but he was never in the papers. A couple of his works I saved a copy of and read myself. They were a little extensive, but they weren't half bad.

I kicked my feet up on my desk, sipped my coffee, and continued to scroll through my inbox. The front door to the building swung open, swiping a little snow into the building as well. The day guard had arrived. What's she yelling about this time?

"Well, next time you wanna pick a fight with the law, you'd better have your posse so I can kill you all at the same time!" She shouted out the door, her body half way over the threshold. I sipped my coffee again, watching her walk in angrily, as per usual, completely forgetting about my emails. "You'd think these cocky assholes would have some balls of steel, the way they pretend to swing a pair around." She said, dusting some snow off as the door shut.

"Oh, Rebecca," Sasha chimed-one of our intakers, "It's still early, you know? Why not grab a coffee or tea or hot chocolate?"

Rebecca shrugged her coat off, "I guess so. It is cold outside anyways."

She was in her uniform but, like always, she had her shirt buttons open. Her tank top was a navy blue. Perhaps, I should be getting back to those emails I'm disregarding, I thought as Rebecca went to the microwave area, but how can one not stare at her? She's like the definition of attention. I hadn't even realized that I wasn't drinking my coffee, despite the cup being held to my mouth. Instead, the hot liquid was spilling right onto my shirt. I was pulled from my thoughts by the scorching heat on my collar area.

"Dammit, Levi..." I cursed to myself, putting the cup down and taking my shirt off. The napkins were by the microwave, where Rebecca stood against the counter, waiting for her drink to warm. I swallowed hard, keeping my same plain expression I used to protect myself, and walked over to grab some napkins. The sink was dripping, which was odd since it was never previously on. I twisted the handle to turn it on, dampening some napkins and dabbing the new red spot near my collar.

"What happened to you?" Rebecca said out of nowhere, causing me to tense a little.

I could feel a little heat run through my face, "I spilled some coffee is all. A dumbass mistake, I guess." I said casually, wincing when I dabbed the spot with an alcohol pad I saw in the cupboard.

Rebecca smirked, turning to grab her cup out of the microwave when it dinged. She tossed it on the counter rather incautiously, repeating "Ow" a few times. "Fuck! That's hot..."

I smirked, "Guess I'm not the only one who makes dumbass mistakes." The trash I used was pushed into the nearly full trashcan.

"Are you calling me a dumbass, dumbass?" She said sharply,

I exhaled, trying to keep myself from tensing, "Not at all. I'm saying you made a dumbass mistake, as did I. Now, if you perceive me to call you a dumbass, I guess you're calling yourself one, right?" I wiped my hands on my pants, turning to go back to my desk.

"Don't try and get ballsy with me, you little shit!" She shouted, stomping off somewhere.

I sat back down behind my desk, watching as she went to her area of the complex, where Sasha was as well. Who, unfortunately, got the heat I didn't from Rebecca. I smirked again. "What a wonderful woman she is." I thought aloud.

My unread emails seemed to diminish over time, since most of them were forwarded to the intakers. I was down to about 30 of them when one of them caught my attention. I only read the subject, "Please Respond", before moving it to a folder on my dashboard.

A small tune popped into my head, an annoying one at that. The tune wasn't the annoying part; I wanted to sing it or hum it but I also can't hold a tune too well (in my opinion, I sound like a dying goat in heat). I wanted it to stop.

The clock in the lower right hand corner of the computer screen read 9:57am. A sigh of irritation. I understand I should stay a little late since I came late (as I already do), but it seems that the day just drags on and on. Most of what I do is send emails, receive emails, approve emails, disprove emails... It's boring. From time to time, someone would ask me to check some of their work. Mr. Springer, for example, asks me to eye his work after he edits it. I'm not sure why he doesn't just ask his boss, Armin. Well, it's more work than what I do.

I click on the Microsoft Word shortcut pinned to the taskbar and open a document I've been working on for some time. F7. Spell check and grammar check comes up, correcting the document for me. A few words are chosen to be overlooked as the others are either deleted or replaced.

"I hate my job..." I sigh to myself.