Work Text:
At one time she was shorter than him. Not by much, but he still remembered. She had chubbier cheeks from too many chocolate bars and walked around half blind without her glasses. His hair was still shaved into a short, messy stripe down the center of his head, the emblem of his life as a thug tattooed on the side of his scalp.
They were both so different, no one from then would recognize them now. (he could only hope)
Levi would get to the house late, a messenger cap and high-collared jacket hiding his identity from the snooty people of her town. He turned his key and walked into chaos.
The man scowled. Papers and books were everywhere, crumpled pieces of paper lived in little herds here and there. An inkwell he was sure he saw in the old office at the end of the hallway was staining the entrance to her room.
The little brat decided to pull everything out of the coat closet, but seemed to forget to put anything back. Coats, hats, and other random junk were thrown on the floor as if the closet had thrown up and forgotten to wipe it’s mouth. She didn’t even have the decency to close the door.
He shut his eyes, took a deep breath - gagged on that breath because a pungent smoke coming from the kitchen - and hung up his things. If this is how she left the front of the house, he dreaded to see what the monster had done to the kitchen.
He should have just left.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t plan on coming back. The imaginary voice of propriety had told him to leave her alone.
But since when did he ever take orders from anybody. It was hard to stay away.
Levi followed the source of musky light spilling out of the kitchen. She must have lit every candle in the entire fucking house in here. He stepped into a war zone bathed in pleasant light. She didn’t hear him and didn’t turn from her work.
Bowls were everywhere, gooey crap and flour splattered on the counters, floors, and cabinets. What was the use of bowls when the shit you’re making never makes it in?
Something smelled like shit. Burning shit.
“Hanji, what the fuck?” he spat kicking a forgotten pan next to his foot out of the way. The brown haired girl whipped around.
“Levi! You’re not supposed to be here!” she yelled, spreading her arms out, trying to hide the mess behind her.
He stalked over to the girl, anger bunching up in his shoulders. “I leave for two fucking weeks,” he held up his calloused fingers to her face. “Two weeks! And you decide to turn it on it’s fucking side?”
She jabbed him with her pointer finger, leaning up in his face. “Hey, it’s not my fault you came back early! If you had stuck to your plan, you would have been kept under my illusion of cleanliness-”
“What illusion! You wouldn’t have cleaned up shit! Even if you did have an extra day!” He threw his arms in the air.
Hanji pushed him back, back, back, back out of the kitchen. “Get out of here! Go do something else for a little while!”
He let himself be pushed. He didn’t have to step back. He turned away from her to the hallway, his broad shoulders set back and his head held up. “All right, Chubby. You have one hour.”
He could hear her snort, but didn’t turn around to acknowledge it. Before he went back into the war zone, he was going to need some candles, face masks and cleaning supplies. He felt a twinge of happiness in his heart, that she remembered the imaginary date he was supposed to return.
Armed to the gills with his sacred tools and a white cloth tied around his face, he faced the battleground.
After all the books were alphabetized and her notes in a neat little stack, he started to scrub the less desirable crud dried to the wooden floors.
The way she lived when he wasn’t there to pick up after her disgusted him. The only way to get anything clean was to do it himself. He didn’t try to force her anymore. She’d just get distracted, pull out more shit, and end up making a bigger mess.
He was filthy by the time he was done. Had she purposefully done this to him? Malicious little brat. Levi pulled his shirt off from underneath the straps and buckles, depositing it into the proper hamper…was that a lollipop sticking out? He pulled the dried candy off of the dirty cotton skirt. It was covered in hair, fuzz and dirt. He had to close his eyes and count to ten before continuing, trying to keep the bile from rising in his throat.
With a clean towel, he headed towards the bathroom. Hanji’s least favorite part of the entire house. He knew from the beginning she was crazy. Crazy and filthy. But her indoor plumbing and soft, clean linens hadn’t been the only draw.
He decided to give her more time and luxuriate a little. There hadn’t been a chance for proper cleaning during this last excursion. Only his cash lined pockets eased his grime-weary soul.
Hanji had disappeared the shower curtain before he left in an experiment. Showering without the liner to keep the rest of the bathroom clean would surely kill him. He knew it. He opted for putting the plug in the bottom of the tub and running the water steaming. He didn’t want to bathe in his own filth…but what other option did he have. He’d just have to fill it up twice. Once for dirt, the other for rinsing.
“Tch…” he held up the two scented bottles, deciding to go with the blue liquid instead of pink, and poring it in. He reached for the first buckle across his chest and started the long process of taking off his gear.
Hanji unceremoniously slammed open the door, starring at him from underneath the door frame. Brown messy hair, half up and half down, hung in a frizz around her head. She had on a pair of grubby slacks, un-proper for the daughter of a doctor to wear, and a pink button up shirt. Her downturned mouth puckered in distaste, he could see the gears turning in her head. “I think your tattoos have gotten even uglier since the last time I saw them.”
“You can talk to me about my tattoos when your face stops looking like a donkey’s ass.” he replied without blinking. Ink littered his body, across his chest, muscles, and back. Hanji deemed the one with two guns pointing down to the ‘V’ of his crotch the dumbest.
He pulled a brown strap down one of his shoulders. “ ‘fuck you want? Your time is running out.”
Hanji stepped in the bathroom, digging through her green designated hamper in the corner. She threw a crumple paper bag over her shoulder. It thudded when it hit the ground. Pants and shirts were next. “Only women take baths, Levi. Did you grow a pussy over the course of your trip?” she bit.
The side of his split lip quirked up. “Ah, it all makes sense now, Hanji. I didn’t think little girls like you were meant to have cocks. No wonder your such a filthy, shit pig.”
He started on the strap around his waist. “Aha!” she said, her head still in the basket. She stood up, pulling out a butcher knife behind her. “I guess I can just clean it now.” she wiped some of the side crust off on her pant legs.
Levi surged forward, grabbing her wrist and yanking the knife in the air. “What the hell did I tell you about clean weaponry, Shit Pig?!” he hissed.
“Out of my face Clean Freak!!” She snarled
“My pleasure-” Levi grabbed her by the back of her clothes, throwing her in the hall with a thud. The door slammed shut in her face. He remembered to lock it this time.
Stupid little girl, always putting weird crap in the hampers and expecting him to clean it…
Thirty minutes later Levi emerged from the steamy bathroom. No disgusting house or shitty brat could sour a good cleansing. He sniffed the skin on the inside of his wrist. The soap he brought home smelled flowery, but good. Clean would always trump filth. If only the little piglet felt the same way.
Before meeting Hanji he was under the impression people from Hermiah bathed regularly. Of course, they didn’t want to offend anybody with their stink. But Hanji never gave a single flying fuck as long as he’s known her. He thought that she’d grow out of it by now.
Most fifteen year old girls don’t like being called fat stinking pigs. That should have been motivation enough for her to clean and give up her sweets. But she’d still go on filthy for weeks at a time if he let her, and would rather eat chocolate before a steak. It was funny when the people of Hermiah would try to be polite to her, but let out a breath of relief when she walked away. Boys didn’t chase after her, but he didn’t mind that one bit. They could all stay the fuck away for all he cared. That’s how he liked it.
She’d tease him. Mr. Ruff and tumble from the streets didn’t like a little dirt. Fuck yeah he didn’t like it. After living in the ass cracks of cities and keeping company with the people that fell out of it, he had no problem admitting that he preferred soap and unsoiled bedsheets, and little oinkers with no ulterior motives towards him.
He remembered when she found him. Dirty, wounded and dying. He remembered the pleasure of hot water and the privacy of the bathroom. There were no bar or in-maids trying to get in, he didn’t have to worry about anyone sneaking in and stealing his shit. All the hovels, shit-holes, inns, bars, abandoned houses, broken in houses, bridges, warehouses, underground bunkers and whorehouses could never compare to the glory of The Zoe Family House. Not to mention the illustrious bathroom.
A thug shows no shame and takes what he can get without mercy. But sometimes, living with Hanji made him feel like a shit-hole is exactly where he belonged. You can take a mongrel in and give him a bath, but it would always be a dumb, dirty dog. His type didn’t typically mix with the purebreds. For good reason too.
It did occur to him once, a shameful thought buried away long ago, that he could have just gotten rid of her. Sold off all the drugs, medicine, and Doctor tools in her cabinets. Turn the house into another location to steal children and smuggle them away. It would make a good profit. But he’d sooner blow the house up then let any other piece of shit come into their home.
And even if he did turn the house, he would never be able to get rid of her. The game would turn sloppy and messy, others would take interest because he’d keep her close, and the whole thing would fall like a bloody house of cards. He’d slaughter them like cattle for just looking at his sweet little piglet.
He’d never let trash into his sanctuary in Hermiah.
Levi went to the room to get dressed, pulling the towel wrapped around his slender hips to dry his hawk of hair. Unlike with Hanji, his dirty towel reached the towel hamper. He pulled on a pair of black jeans and went to go see the final damage done to the once spotless kitchen. Oddly enough, the lights were dimmed, and no noisy little pig shit noises were rustling around from within.
He was surprised. But not in the terrible sense. It was actually…halfway decent for a Hanji cleanup job. The gew had been wiped from the counters, the dishes had been washed and neatly stacked, stray pots and pans were off the floor, and a window was opened, letting out the burnt smell. But where was Hanji?
From the other side of the kitchen, Hanji, once again, opened the door. But this time it didn’t swing and bang the wall with it’s nob. She stepped out of the darkness of the living room into the kitchen, quietly mumbling a song.
“…happy birthday to you…” it was so unlike Hanji, who usually screamed or shouted in excitement, knocking into things like a raging bull without an ounce of grace. But here she was, singing softly, almost a whisper, and carrying chocolate cake with multicolored candles sticking out of it.
She sat it down on the kitchen table. “…birthday to you..” she finished. She looked away from him, a blush of embarrassment on her cheeks, and a frown from their earlier yelling match.
There were already plates and forks set out, neat and clean on her side and his side of the table. The candles flickered around, making shadows dance on Hanji’s still face. “Aren’t you going to sit down, you ugly ape?” and he did. She took her seat shortly after, scooting and scraping it on the tile to sit closer to him.
“Well what are you waiting for?” she asked him.
Levi hadn’t taken his eyes off her the whole time. He started to feel like an ass for yelling at her earlier. “It’s…not my birthday.” he mumbled.
Hanji’s bowed her head, her brown messy hair falling on the side of her face and blocking it from his view. She wiped a stray smudge of chocolate off the platter with her finger. “You told me that you thought your birthday might be in December. So I decided that the day you came home would be your birthday…”
“But…you thought I was coming back in a few-”
“This was the practice cake asshat!” she yelled at him, her brown eyes glittering in the light.
Levi couldn’t suppress the upturn in his lips. Crazy, dirty, round, sweet, thoughtful Hanji. He placed his hand on top her head, she sucked in a startled breath. He pulled her closer to him, wrapping his other arm around her while she leaned into his shoulder. “Did I ruin all your plans, Hanji?” he rumbled into her hair.
“Of course you did,” she threw her arms up, despite his embrace. “Why would I put your birthday on Christmas? That’s the worst possible day to have a birthday on! My birthday is in July, which is a much better month to be born on. That way all your presents are spread throughout the year. Now your only going to get one big present day a year instead of two!”
He laughed in her hair, pulling her a little tighter before letting go. He kept one hand still atop her head. “But I guess now we’ll never forget it.” she finished, brushing his hand away, her lips puckered in embarrassment.
He never would. Ever. It was the second acknowledgement of his birth anyone has ever given him, and he’d be sure to keep it. Whores don’t care to keep track of their age in the underground, why would they do it for their son?
Hanji sat there again, staring expectantly into his eyes. She was waiting for him to do something, he just wasn’t sure exactly what.
“What are you staring at, Chubby?” he smirked and pinched her pink cheek. She slapped his hand away again. It was hard not to pinch and grab onto Hanji. He’d never had the luxury of closeness before, and her frustration towards it made it hard to resist. He didn’t like touching other people, and didn’t care to be touched either aside from the occasional romp. But contact never lasted long after that, and he’d be sure to clean himself up as soon as he’d come to. The desire for people to touch him had always disgusted him.
Hanji’s dark mood finally started to clear up. Pearly white teeth began to peek out of pink lips. “Your supposed to blow out the candles, dummy.”
“Oi, you know you can’t expect too much from me.” he said looking over the nineteen, sloppily placed candles.
“Are you going to need help? I thought you were good at blowing?” she cackled in laughter. He narrowed his eyes, but smiled non-the-less, pulling her back to him to squish her cheeks and mess up her tangled hair. He’d let it slip just this once.
“Nasty little, brat. Who shoveled that horse shit in your mouth?” he said, not letting her escape. Hanji struggled and squirmed to get away, trying to save her poor abused cheeks. She didn’t need to point out the blame. They both knew her gutter mouth came from him.
“WAIT!” she said, pushing his clean shaven face away with her hand.
Levi loosened his grip. “What?”
Hanji pulled completely away, hopping up from the table and running to her room. ‘thump thump thump thump thump.’ Down the hallway. ‘thump thump thump thump thump.’ and then back to the kitchen. She panted a little holding something behind her back.
“What is it?” he asked her, stone cold. The last time she had approached him with something held behind her, he had nearly had a hernia. “It’s not another rat is it.”
“Pssh,” she said, angling her body so he couldn’t see. She pulled the chair away from him with her foot, and sat down facing Levi. “You wish. I’ll never trust you with another one again after what happened to my poor, sweet, Princess.”
Levi snorted. Princess had red beady eyes and diseases. Princess was gone before she could properly introduce her to the thug.
Hanji wiggled in excitement and giggles, a big smile stretched as far as possible across her face. “1…2…3!” she yelled, pulling a narrow box from behind her back.
Once again, Levi couldn’t have been any more surprised. He was sure it was something weird. It always was with Hanji. But this box didn’t look too strange, disgusting, disease ridden, or dangerous.
It was a black and rectangular, a white bow wrapped around it with care. “Don’t even ask if I wrapped it, you know I didn’t.” she nudged it at him.
Levi slowly took the foreign object. It was light and the box was smooth. “Open it Levi!! You’re killing me here!!!” she clapped her hands in front of her face three times.
He smoothed his calloused hands over the white ribbon. He didn’t want to pull it loose. He looked up Hanji, his brows crinkled and knit more than usual. “Hanji…”
Without even trying, without even wanting, some while back he had somehow found himself in the company of one Hanji Zoe. This friendship had never been a choice, she willed it on him until there was no denying or fighting to be done. Simple and easy. Hanji had never asked for anything in return. Not from his pockets or body.
No matter how much money he dumped in their collective pot, or what he tried to make her for dinner, or how clean he made sure the house was, nothing he could give her would ever be enough. And here she was again, thrusting her friendship and care into his hands, expecting nothing but the hopes that he’d come back from his next illegal excursion.
She smiled. “It’s for you Levi! Don’t they have birthday presents where you’re from? Birthdays require three things to be official,” she said, holding up her hand. She liked to explain things to him. “Its minimum requirements are one song, one cake, and at least one gift. And it just so happens we have all those things!” she giggled, swiping her finger in the frosting to take a taste. Her nose scrunched at the taste.
He set the the box down on the table, next to the cake and melting candles. He stared ahead out the kitchen window to the dimming day. Hanji’s face fell and her hands dropped to her sides. “Levi?” She hesitated. “Why aren’t you opening your present? I promise it will be a good one!” she poked him on his arm, right in the center of one of his tattoos. It was black and swishy, a weird symbol the authorities had marked him with in his preteens when he had been apprehended in Trost. It meant thief.
“I should leave you alone, Hanji.” he said, covering the tattoo with his right hand, hiding it from her prodding fingers. There have been times like these, where he feels out of place. When it bubbles from his chest, they are usually disregarded. Much like everything else in his life. But this time he can’t. The contrast is too much. She’s like the white bow, wrapping herself around the black box, neatly tying herself around and camouflaging it with her pretty bow. No one remembers that it’s just a box when the bow is around it. It’s easy to forget when he’s got a Hanji wrapped around him.
He’s a filthy thug from the streets of maria, raised by the whores and hounds of the underground. Pictures scattered across his body, some stupid and superfluous, some keys of access and codes, and others markers of forced shame so society would never forget what he was. Two bands around each wrist made sure to tell those that got close enough not to trust the hand that reaches to them.
This time, fingers grabbed his hair, jerking him out of his thoughts and back towards Hanji’s resolute face. “If you leave, then I’m coming with you.”
His lips parted, to tell her that he wasn’t quite sure. But her hand covered his mouth. Her warm eyes were set in determination. “If you try to leave me, Levi, then I’ll pull apart your maneuvering gear. If you still try to leave me, I’ll pack up all the stuff I can and follow you. And then if you still try to leave me, I’ll contact the authorities and tell them my retarded, mentally unstable cousin in my care got away and needs to be returned to me as soon as possible for medical purposes. I don’t care where you are, or where you think your going to go,” her hand slid from his mouth. Her arms slid underneath his muscular arms, leaning in to his chest and closing the little distance their chairs allowed. “I’ll follow you outside the walls and back if I have to.”
Levi pulled her onto his lap, returning her embrace and petting her hair. She needed a bath. He’d have to make her bathe before she got into bed. He hugged her tighter pressing his face to the curve of her shoulder. Being on his lap gave her a couple of inches in height over him.
The man underneath her was quiet. Much too quiet. Words like quiet, contemplative and boiling self turmoil weren’t reserved for Levi. Maybe empty brained at times, laughing at nothing while he’d drink himself silly from the alcohol in the cellar. Clean freak, for sure, when he’d complain and brow beat her about keeping dirt and animals outside the townhouse they occupied. Burly thug, yah. He’d never stop, he’d told her once. ‘what the fuck else am I good for?’ As much as he said she was a loudmouth, Levi was hardly a runner up on words to express himself. He always told her exactly what he thought exactly when he thought it. It was hurtful and endearing. Hanji didn’t like to be kept in the dark about things, and hated even more to be lied to. She knew, words wouldn’t come to him when he was confused about where he stood.
She rubbed her face against the fuzzy side of his scalp, it was growing back in from the last time he shaved it, pretty soon the terrible tattoo on his head would be invisible. She said he looked scary with a bare scalp, and he said ‘good’, but he never shaved it so close again.
“Waa-?” Hanji moved her arms to incircle his neck. Levi moved from under her, holding her head back from the flames as he blew them out. “What are you-”
“Shut up.”
He grabbed the present and slipped the other hand around her bottom to hold her up. Levi carried her out of the kitchen to her room, setting her down on the mattress and blankets on the floor in the little nook against the window where he usually slept. He pulled his traveling bag over beside him, it waited against the protruding walls where his bed was tucked.
Hanji watched him dig through his bag in curiosity, his present set aside but not forgotten. He pulled something out. It, too, was rectangular, but wrapped with the red and green holiday colors Hermiha residents slathered on everything this time of year. His face was blank, the neutral bored expression that usually occupied his face when he wasn’t busy causing mischief or fighting with her. He presented her with the gift.
“This is for you.”
Hanji was sure she looked like a goof, her jaw slack and here eyes wide. She bit her lower lip and smiled bringing her hands up to her face. “This better not be a parting gift, Levi, or I won’t open yours, either!”
‘Che’ He tossed it to her. It fell in her lap. She eyed the meticulous wrapping. Even though the corners looked professionally tucked and taped, there wasn’t many shops that would wrap their presents in the festive paper the butcher wrapped his meets in. She held it to her nose and sniffed it.
“Stop sniffing it like a weirdo and open it, shit-head.” he said, impatient and sharp.
“It smells like your bag, I want to shove it up my nose and let it live there.” she cuddled it to her face. She might not have been a big fan of baths, but she sure enjoyed the way Levi smelled.
“Stop being weird and open the fucking present. It’s important.”
She stroked the side of the box. “Your present is important too. How about we rip these suckers open at the same time, ransacking them of their rapping and dignity.” She laughed evilly. Levi smirked.
“Creepy little freak.” he picked up his box, and they opened their gifts.
“What?! No way!!!” Hanji leapt out of bed, jumping spinning and twirling around, a new pair of shining spectacles in hand. Levi pulled out his gift, but unlike the girl, had a less than spectacular reaction. He had no idea what the hell it was.
Hanji gushed, walking around her room, holding the glasses up to the window and shining stars outside, complimenting the silver rims and cute, decorative swishes of silver on the side. They were much girlier than her last pair.
Her last pair, smashed under the wheels of a merchants cart, were thick, black and chunky. The bridge had duck tape around the center and drew attention to her slightly curved nose. These were delicate and feminine. She crashed down in front of him on the fluffy blanket.
“They’re peeeerrrfeeeecct!” she squealed, holding them up for him to see. “Loooook!”
“Yah yah, I know what they look like.” They didn’t look half as nice as they did on Hanji’s face. He unconsciously rubbed the fine material of his present between his fingers. Hanji examined her spectacles under her fuzzy gaze. Maybe, if he could just keep the damn things on her, she wouldn’t walk into as many people and objects. It would be a relief. With Hanji, small wars and little victories would bring the most satisfaction. Drastic changes, like expecting her to have a complete hygiene turnover, were unrealistic.
She ran her finger along the decorative side. “They’re perfect, Levi!” she smiled. “But how did you know which prescription to ask for? Are you spying on me?” She teased, putt them back on her face, pushing them up onto the bridge of her nose with one finger.
Levi scoffed. Spying. As if they weren’t so far up in each others shit…“I found it cleaning up the fucking house, Hanji. Important paperwork gets filed in the desk drawer from now on.” She gave him a blank look. “The combination for your fucking blind ass eyes is important paperwork.” he clipped.
He waited, looking in her exited, childish eyes. He had thought, with the glasses on, that she’d be able to see clearly now. That she’d take one look at him and suddenly realize what a piece of shit she dragged into her house all that time ago…the realization he was waiting for never came.
She smiled at him. “What is this?” he nearly whispered, something foreign was stopping up his chest and making it hard to talk. He held up the dainty white material, some parts were almost translucent in the moonlight glow. It looked like a misshapen handkerchief.
“Ahh!” she clapped her hands together and giggled. “That,” she said, taking it from his hands. “is a cravat!”
Unfortunately, that name meant nothing to him. “A what?”
Hanji leaned in, throwing one side of the material around his neck so the thick ends hung in front. “This,” she said, her hands tying the soft cotton. “-is 100% pure perfection for your casual thug.” she giggled, sitting back and admiring his work.
He looked down at the thing trailing down the front of his chest, touching the slight frill at the end. “It looks sorta silly now, but usually it’s worn with a shirt.”
Was it some sort of bow tie? He really didn’t understand the purpose of this frilly piece of material and how it could be useful to him. She seemed to understand. Her powers of observation must have increased with her eyesight, but she did always say he was a predictable guy if she squinted hard enough.
“I’m sick and tired Levi.” she began, she smacked the down comforter, the white pooft out.
“Sick of what?” he asked her.
“Those ass suckers in town giving you funny looks.” she said, her eyes squinted in annoyance.
They liked to stare and then turn their backs and gossip. Close their shops if they saw him coming down the street. Stutter when he tried to pay for their groceries. It pissed him off, made him want to really rip the mother fuckers off. But the only reason it made him mad was because Hanji was there with him, feeling the blunt of the haughty discrimination along with him. He was used to it. It was something he lived with all his life. But Hanji, their eccentric, dirty little medicine maker, did not. Sure they’d whisper behind her back, balk at her company and horrible stench, but never right out in the open. He didn’t like her to see how ugly people could be.
“And what do you think this thing’ll do?”
Hanji lifted a finger, touching his neck covered by the soft material, right at the dip of his color bone. They both knew, without having to see it, what she was touching. “You don’t have to be ashamed, Levi. I like you no matter what crappy things you have tattooed across your body-Hell if you don’t want to wear it, screw them all! But it also might be useful, when the military comes around for inspection, to remain inconspicuous” She was talking about the little black x colored in the middle dip of his collar bones.
Levi didn’t reply. He leaned back, sliding down flat on the bed, fluffy pink pillows beneath his ink black hair. Hanji crawled over beside him, pulling the covers down and pulling it over them both. He felt her small hand lace with his. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to…I just thought-”
He turned to her, his eyes lidded in his usual lazy blue stare. Docile as the lazing panthers in her picture books. “Thank you, Hanji. This is a good gift.”
She hushed, biting her bottom lip, still not convinced. She snugged closer to him.
“But Levi, don’t think-”
“Shut up, piglet. You know I don’t think.” he rumbled, pressing a kiss to her temple. Heat filled her cheeks, traveling down to her chest then making it’s way down and curling her toes. She gasped. He didn’t normally do that. But one thing’s for certain…she liked it.
“Right!” she sat up, reached down with both hands, placed them on either sides of his face and planted a kiss right on his mouth. Stunned, his eyes must have been wider than she’d ever seen them before. She flopped back down next to him, cuddling up to his side, satisfied. He tasted like mint. “You’re going to looks so fancy! We should try to sneak into the castle later,” Hanji began to trail off, sleep weighing both of them down, the wind outside singing them a pleasant song of the night. “Only fancy gentlemen wear cravats. You’re ganna looks so good…” she trailed off.
He pulled her close.
Everything was perfect.
Well, everything was perfect except…”Hanji, when was the last time you’ve had a bath.”
She sighed, throwing an arm around his torso. “Two weeks.”