#This day was also yet another reminded for me to read the goddamned wings au

[camelspit]

Day 21! Fitz/Wings! Woo!

[hellas-himself]

More Than Enough

Remember that self indulgent crack ship holiday fic I was writing about Cassian and Feyre? And how I couldn’t seem to mix the past with the present? 

It’s a fic now. Still in the same AU just like... the year before. Leading up to the cheesy ass nonsense it is now. Originally it was going to be angsty at first but I think we have enough of that in our real life. If you haven’t read the crackship holidays featuring these two dumbasses, start here or on AO3.

Also. I promise all my other fics are not being abandoned. 

I’ve had a playlist to listen to when writing them but it is so incredibly inappropriate if you understand spanish. and i haven’t made it onto spotify yet. But this song reminded me of them and that’s where the title comes from. Which is funny because Alina is who i put beside Toni Mafud as Rhys and Feyre whenever fan casts come up. ANYWAY. 

Let’s follow Feyre as she thirsts after her best friend. 

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I blame it on the music.

Cassian lost his shirt about half an hour ago and is doing pull ups. The garage door is open, letting in the cold winter air. My fingers are cold but I don’t like wearing gloves when sketching. I had been working on hands and eyes but once he tossed his shirt… It’s not like I’ve never seen Cassian without a shirt on before. Between him and his brothers, they seem to always find an excuse to not wear one. But the difference is I don’t find myself daydreaming about what it would be like to run my fingers down their backs.

It’s definitely the music.

Even if I didn’t understand the words, the beat itself is way too sensual to not be about anything else but sex. But the lyrics and Cassian’s sweaty, half naked body mixed with the fact that I haven’t had sex in months is probably the worst mix. I am not supposed to be imagining sleeping with my best friend.

I clear my throat, startling Valo who was falling asleep at my feet.

“Sorry, baby, I need a drink.”

I set my sketch book and pencil down on the crate beside my chair.

“Would you get me a drink, bunny?” Cas breathes out and my face flushes all the more. I didn’t need another detail to this stupid daydream.

“Yeah,” I squeak and head into the house. I already know his post workout drink recipe by heart. I drink ice cold water while the blender is going.

Cassian is suspended in the air, holding his entire body parallel to the floor with his hands. Goddamn him. He drops his head back so that he’s looking at me upside down and he smiles.

“I love you,” he says and I roll my eyes.

“I’ll love you more if you don’t bust your ass.”

He chuckles and just to drive the nail in the coffin that is my desire to be the reason he’s making noises like that, he slowly lowers his body and resumes his pull ups. I set his cup on the table where he has his tools and go back to sit down.

Cassian drops down and walks over to his mat to do his cool down stretches. A new song comes on and the words are so filthy that I find myself staring at him. His tattoos. My ex-boyfriend had always believed I was into Cassian- and I wasn’t. But I wasn’t blind and I’ve been at his house almost every single day since Thanksgiving- he is always without a shirt.

It’s just the music.

“Plan on drawing me?” Cassian asks and I blink. I look away from his tattooed chest and to his face. He is smirking. Shit.

“Uh. Yeah. What better way to do anatomy studies than with a living reference?”

“Anatomy, huh?”

He flashes me a grin before he walks over to the table for his drink.

“Hey, what do you want for dinner?”

His question distracts me from looking at his ass.

“Uh, whatever you want… I’m not really craving anything.” Except you. I sigh and cover my face with my hands and lean over. I need a cold shower.

“Hey… You alright?” he asks softly.

I nod and slowly sit upright.

“I’m just… I’m fine. I promise.”

He doesn’t believe me but he walks over to grab his speaker.

“I love this song,” he says and starts to sing along to it as he gratefully goes back into the house.  

Cassian meets me in the living room now dressed in a white tee and grey sweatpants. He lifts both my legs up so that he can sit down. This is normal. I always use his lap to rest my legs.

“I ordered Greek, I hope you don’t mind.”

“I told you, I’m not craving anything except-”

Fuck my entire life. Cassian raises a brow and I toss him the remote.

“Why don’t we finish your show so then we can watch my movie?”

This pacifies him and thankfully, his stupid show is so violent and bloody that all thoughts of fucking my best friend fade from my mind.

*

Our annual Christmas party is tonight and I’ve found an outfit. It is the kind of outfit Tamlin would have told me not to wear. It’s blood red and insanely inappropriate for winter with its spaghetti straps and super low neckline. Mor says it’s the perfect thing to wear after a break up and just the thought of all the pictures we’ll take with me and Cassian together makes me believe it.

I hang the dress up in the closet of Cassian’s bedroom. The heels are set beside his dress shoes and I can’t help but think about his reaction. Of dancing with him all night and coming back here and-

“Bunny!” 

“I’m in the closet!”

I hear him chuckle. 

“Shut up,” I call out and walk into the bedroom to find him pulling off his shirt. I feel my face go hot.

“I’m going to shower… do you want me to use the other bathroom?” 

“What? No, this is your house,” I say far more casually than I feel. “Besides, we’ve got time, we can share.” 

I want to punch myself in the face. Cassian starts to grin. 

“The shower might be a little too small for the both of us but I’m sure we could find a way to-”

Cassian laughs when I smack his arm. 

“Not exactly where I like being spanked but I’ll take it.”

“Oh my god, Cassian.”

He laughs and disappears into the bathroom. I force myself to leave the room when I hear the water.  

*

Cassian walks into the kitchen in nothing but a towel, his hair wet, water dripping down his chest. He walks over and takes the sandwich from my hands.

“Fuck, we’re out of beer,” he mutters as he opens the fridge. I grab the second sandwich I made, expecting him to steal from my plate and force my gaze up. On his stupidly gorgeous face.

“I can go get some,” I say but he shakes his head and walks over to take my cup of iced tea.

“Are you cool with us taking a cab tonight?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” 

Cassian drinks from my cup and sets it down before pinching my cheek. 

“It’ll just be you and me,” he says softly. “So don’t worry about it.”

I blush at this and Cassian kisses my forehead. 

“I’m gonna go get dressed. Thanks for the snack,” he says with a wink and walks away.

*

I keep my makeup rather muted; lip gloss and the usual winged liner. Nude eyeshadow. Cassian picked out the highlight and I have to admit, he chose well. My hair isn’t going to get any better, so I leave it in loose waves rather than the curls I’d wanted. I’ll leave that to Mor. I feel nervous, this is the first time since the breakup that I’m going out with all of our friends but Cassian will be there, and that’s enough to ease my nerves. Almost.  

“Our ride is here,” Cas says as he walks into his bedroom. He stops and just stares. I approach him and hold out my ID card and debit card, needing to ignore the way his attention has me feeling.

“I don’t have pockets.”

“What?” He blinks and looks down at my hand. He laughs and pulls his wallet out. “You only need your ID.”

“Maybe so,” I say and reach out to smooth down the collar of his shirt while he puts my cards away. I remember my lip gloss and put it in his back pocket, giving him a wink.

Cassian holds my hand when we go outside, helping me down the steps and the driveway. It’s a regular occurrence, but I blush when he opens the door for me. And when he slides an arm around my shoulders when he sits down beside me. We take a bunch of pictures and call Cassian’s parents to check on Val- as if we hadn’t seen him an hour ago. 

When we get to the club, Cassian holds my hand as we walk inside. Cassian and the boys are all friends with the owner, so we get to skip the line.

“Where are we going?” I ask as Cassian leads us up to the VIP lounge.

“Meeting up with Rhys.”

“What’s he doing up here?”

Cassian chuckles. “You know Rhys never passes a chance to be extra as fuck.”

I can’t argue with that.

Upstairs, Cassian helps me out of my coat. His fingers brush my skin and my mind takes a swan dive into the gutter.

“What do you say to a few drinks before we go downstairs?” he asks as he takes my hand. The bouncer outside the lounge acknowledges us with a nod.

“Yeah, I could use it.”

Cassian flashes me a grin and then opens the door.

“SURPRISE!” Everyone shouts and I find all of our friends standing under a Happy Birthday banner.

I am at a loss for words and Cassian laughs, bringing me further into the room. I’d completely forgotten about my birthday, I hadn’t cared enough to even think that anyone else would. But Elain is here with Az. So is Rhys and Lucien, Amren, Varian. Viv and Kallias, too. I’m separated from Cassian as I’m hugged and kissed by everyone. I realize Tarquin and Cresseida are here as well. Rhys is the one who breaks open the first bottle and we all stand around the little table to take shots.

“There is a cake,” Elain says as she hands me another shot. “But that’s later.”

“Later?”

She winks at me and shouts for Azriel.

“That’s my favorite song!” she exclaims and her husband happily ditches his brothers to go out and dance with his wife.

Lucien and Rhys pull me in for another hug as the others begin to trail down to the dance floor.

“You look good enough to eat,” Lucien mumbles and I laugh.

“Don’t tell me you’re already drunk, Luce.”

“We may have pregamed at the house,” Rhys admits. “But we took an uber! It’s okay.”

I roll my eyes.

“You both suck. I’m going to go find me two other cute boys to dance with. Boys who would have invited me to pregame with them and no amount of flirting is going to fix that.”

They begin to whine and I laugh, holding onto Rhysand’s forearms as they keep me caged between them.

“Alright! You win!” I say with a laugh and look over to find Cassian looking my way. He smiles.

I want to ask him to dance but Mor pulls him away before I can open my mouth.

We drink and dance and drink and dance and drink some more. I feel light headed and everything makes me laugh. But I haven’t danced with Cassian yet and that’s enough to dampen the mood. I push my way through the crowd until I find Cassian at the bar. I take the empty barstool beside him and sit down. I order myself a margarita before turning to face him.

“And where have you been all night?” I ask and Cassian smirks.

“Enjoying the night,” he says and takes a sip of his drink.

“Without me?”

I don’t understand the look in his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink. He sets the glass down and leans forward. I didn’t really understand just how short this dress was until he lays his hand on my thigh. If I turn my chair completely, if he moves his hand just an inch more…

“Yes,” he says and kisses me cheek. “But I think I’m about to enjoy it more now.”

“Why?” I manage to say. Cassian’s hand brushes my thigh as he sits upright.

“I’m about to go dance with my best friend.”

“Are you now?”

My drink is set before me and I grab it, chugging it down as Cassian slides off his chair. He turns mine so that I’m facing him completely and puts his hands on my hips.

“If she says yes, of course.”

I finish the last of my drink and set down the glass.

“When have I ever said no to you?”

Cassian grins.

I have danced with Cassian many times. At parties, at the beach, at clubs and bars and festivals. At his parents’ house. I should be used to the feeling of his body against mine, of his hands on me while we dance but not like this. I want nothing more than to take him back up to the lounge and push him down on the sofa or go find an empty bathroom stall.

But I don’t.

Birthday cake and alcohol isn’t the best mix, but I haven’t felt this alive in months. My face hurts from laughing, from smiling. My vision is spotty from all the pictures we’ve taken but I don’t care. Everything is right in the world.

“My feet hurt,” I complain and sit on Cassian’s lap.

“Want me to rub your feet?”

I shake my head and lean into him.

“No. Not until I’m showered.”

He laughs. “Okay.”

I sigh when he wraps his arms around me. He is so warm and smells so good, I want to stay this way forever.

“I think the birthday girl is done for the night,” Rhys says teasingly and I realize I was dozing off. I look up to see Rhys standing there with a stupid smirk on his face.

“Fuck you,” I say and curl up in Cassian’s arms. I feel his hand holding my dress down from showing everyone else my ass.

“Tempting,” Rhys says and then shoves his hands in his pockets. “But I think I’ll pass.”

I don’t think much of the look Rhys gives Cassian in favor of playing with his hair. I take way too much satisfaction in the knowledge that not everyone gets to do this, and that he enjoys it. Cassian seems to win whatever silent staring contest he and Rhys were having and Rhys rolls his eyes and goes after his boyfriend.

“You’re making me sleepy, bunny.”

“Good thing we’re going home together then,” I say before my mind catches up. But Cassian only chuckles and hugs me a little closer.

*

Cassian and I are a laughing mess as we stumble into the house. I lean on him to step out of my heels and he laughs as I shrug off my coat and toss it at him. We’re both trying to catch our breath, and I swat his hand away when he tries to tickle me again.

“I’m taking a shower,” I breathe out and walk off but he stops me.

“Wait,” he says and I turn to find him smiling.

“What?”

“Happy birthday,” he says softly and pulls me in for a hug. “I promise I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Hm… you really know the way to a girl’s heart, Cas.”

He pinches my side and I yelp.

“Go shower,” he says and kisses the top of my head.

“I won’t be long.”

My shower is clumsy and not at all relaxing. My feet hurt. So I put lotion on my body and grab the bottle of perfume that is on the dresser, except it’s not perfume but cologne. I shrug and put on Cassian’s Nirvana tee shirt and double check I actually have underwear on before I go looking for him.

“Cas?” The house is dark save for the light coming from his room. “My feet fucking hurt.”

He says something but I don’t understand it. His room is open and I step inside, finding him lying on his bed. He’s got basketball shorts on and his hair is loose.

“Bunny!” he says as if he hadn’t seen me all day. “I almost busted my ass in the shower.”

“Me, too.” I say with a laugh. “Maybe we should’ve showered together. It would’ve been safer that way.”

“I like the way you think, Archeron.”

He holds his hand out to me and when I’m close enough, he pulls me into bed with him. “You smell good.”

I snort. “I smell like you.”

“Exactly.”

I swat his arm but he ignores it, putting his arms around me.

“My feet hurt,” I complain, hoping he’ll make good on his promise.

“Just stay here,” he says simply.

My heart stops and starts too fast.

“Like… sleep here?” I ask too quietly.

“Mhm.” He goes quiet for a moment and then groans. “I forgot to turn the light off.”

“I can do it,” I say.

“No… Stay here.”

He goes quiet once more, and I let myself relax. We haven’t shared a bed since we were kids, playing video games until Adela would force us to go to bed. I smile at the thought and rest my head against his chest.

“Goodnight, Cas,” I say quietly, my eyes getting heavy.

“Goodnight, bunny,” he says and lets me go to stretch. Then he wraps his arms around me again and moves us so that we’re on our sides. He presses a kiss to my forehead and I close my eyes, letting the warmth of him lull me to sleep.

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@mythicaitt @bookloveaffair @nalgenewhore @candid-confetti 

[92prince]

Concert Tickets

concert au based off an old gruvia prompt i wrote MANY MANY YEARS AGO LMAO, the erwin part partly based off of TheHeroineIsMe’s ff Honey and Stone. read it here! anyways, enjoy lolol

The fact that Petra Ral had started as a loyal fangirl didn’t mean being swept away in the bustling crowd of obnoxious other fangirls didn’t make the band leader notice her through the mass of people circling around them. When the handsome blonde man with piercing, diamond tinted eyes and perfectly broad shoulders glanced over her way, she’d screamed. Ever so hardly that she could pass out. And when he’d call her by the strawberry blonde shade of her hair accompanied by a charming smile, she’d died. “Honey coloured hair, get on the stage!” Was all it took for her to pace back and forth from her reality and have the fangirls around her glare into her bones, envy taking over them.

She had struggled pushing herself through the radius, but the pride in her never ceased. She was bound to be up o stage with the band she’d grown obsessed with, having her favourite member of the band call her out. Petra could die any second by then. Amber coloured eyes sparkled as she bit her lips in, restraining the urge to scream and collapse. It just had to be one of those happiest days of her life, and when Erwin Smith snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close, it became the happiest. Screams and cheers had been delivered from the crowd, mixed with cries of jealousy and just plain cheers. Really, some of these people just cheer at every single damn thing a band member does whilst they’re up on stage. Petra lifted a hand lowly before her shoulder and slightly waved when she’d spotted Erd, proudly smiling at her along with Gunter; and just a tad grumbled Auruo. It was either because of the displeasing sight (to him, of course) of Petra and the blonde band leader, or he had just bitten his tongue again. Maybe even both.

But Petra drew her attention away from the three of her friends as she realised where she was, again; on the holy stage with the godly band she’d been addicted to, with her favourite member’s hand hooked around her waist on a blessed Saturday night. And not in her dimmed, soft blue painted room, in front of her three years old Macbook Air and fangirling like an idiot. Those people she’d squeal to every night from behind the screen of her laptop were there with her, on the stage. “So, who brought you here tonight, honey?” Petra had internally squealed, but a wave of disappointment had slapped against her heart when she’d realised it was for the specific colour of her hair, and not the lovey-dovey nickname lovers would exchange. There was this thing about the remarkable colour of her hair that stands out so, so often in ways people couldn’t think possible - resulting amazing effects or just brutally opposing ones. And in this case, it’s the latter. She wouldn’t - couldn’t ever take the nickname ‘honey’ seriously anymore after the realisation.

“M-My friends. Erd, Auruo and Gunter.” She responded. The little compliments by the other members became inaudible muffled noises to her when Erwin began speaking into his microphone again. “What are you doing next Saturday?” He smiled. She died, for the millionth time that night.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

"Classes.” Was all she’d said. No lies hid behind the statement, but she’d score her way out of the damned paperworks if there were to be another concert held again in the little town.

The members on the stage laughed, Hanji’s being the loudest and the most obnoxious one yet; followed by the sea of people depraved by the stage. Boy, was Petra embarrassed. The veins on her neck grew red to the roots of her face, until she felt it bursting into fifty different directions that no one would be laughing anymore. What she hadn’t noticed was the bassist, on the other hand, a thin brow raised at the strawberry blondie. Unlike everyone else, he was amused; on how most girls that had the chance on going up on stage would literally squeal and tackle the members that they’d cry for the bodyguards, but this chick right here was completely calm, trailing and claiming that she’ll be in about campus next Saturday. Interesting.

“Well, skip it, honey - cause’ you’ve just won yourself a ticket to Wings of Freedom this Saturday!” Erwin spoke, cheers hung in the air again, louder and louder to the point Petra couldn’t register it into her earlobes anymore.

It’s all thanks to Erd that they’ve had gotten backstage passes, at the very last minute even. The strawberry blonde was still squealing no matter how many hours it had passed, and the only thing that had succeeded in shutting her up was when the call to the backstage had approved. She’d shrink in nervousness but gallop in excitement at the same time. Then there she was, finally seeing Erwin with her own pair of eyes, admiring him as if he was the only thing by then. He’d charmingly smile in return, towering over her and complimenting how sweet she was. It wasn’t until Erwin had asked, “What’s your name, honey?”

Petra slowly gaped her mouth open to utter the stone defined, Greece originated name of hers - until the deafening beeping of her phone interrupted those words that hadn’t even made it’s way out yet. In the speed of a heartbeat she’d fish her phone out, convincing Erwin it’ll be ‘just a second, yeah’ and ended up entirely shocked. She’d forget real life too much for the past hours of her day, that she hadn’t even realised it was twelve. That’s when nervousness took over her anatomy, she couldn’t move at all.

“Goddamn, Nifa, let me go to this one; please?” Petra begged the mistress of their house, little jumps by her feet as she inflicted impatience herself.

“I’m telling you, dear.” Nifa started. “I’m content with it, but it is not my position to let you leave the manor without your father’s approval.”

Petra rubbed her temples, frustrated. She knew she should’ve pleaded this sooner. “My father would never let me wander off to concerts, and you know that well. I’m only asking you to shush about it, for the literal sake of Pete!”

The middle aged woman huffed a sigh before leaning her waist against the counter of the newly wiped counter. “..I won’t be going against differ now, since you won’t even listen. But if you’re too willing.. Just get back here before 12. Or at least that’s the approximate time your father would come home on Fridays.”

“You’re seriously the best person ever. God bless you.” She’d smile uncontrollably whilst hugging the older woman for a split second before dashing out the door and running like a bitch on her last day on Earth.

Petra snapped. Without even realising, she’d half-screamed, making each pair of eyes dart towards her. “Fuck! It’s 12!”

She’d sprinted her way out of the backstage, a part of her guilty of leaving the place. Why did she need to be rushed on the day she’d been waiting for for so long? Moreover the day she didn’t even know would exist in this petty life of hers? Despite the sudden hurry, disappointment filled her lungs till’ she could hear the sound of her heart breaking. Not literally enough, but still. Tears filled by her eyes. She didn’t want to leave. And she didn’t even have the chance to claim the free ticket she’d been offered earlier on stage. Now, there’ll be no way in hell would she have the chance to see them again.

Knowing her father and how pissed out he’d be, in spiting the fact that she’d gone to a concert without his permission, slightly trespassing the A.M when even her curfew was at ten, she’ll be experiencing hell.

Petra felt a presence running after her, slowly catching up. But the chick wasn’t the high school’s top runner for nothing. She’d sprint down the pavement that the presence had lost sight of her as she fades away into the dark, foggy night. She’d spotted Gunter’s black Toyota parked by the side of the road and how the three dorks had fallen asleep when she’d reclaim backstage. Mercilessly, Petra pulled open the door of the passenger seat and slammed it close, startling the three of them awake as she yelled, “DRIVE!”

The presence stood there, heaving a pant. “..Where the hell?” He hadn’t even had the chance to ask for her name. Suddenly, he felt a hand lowered on his shoulder.

He turned around and met none other than his band mate, Levi - also known as the bassist. The shorter man raised a brow. “Is this Cinderella on purpose? Because I’ve..”

The next day had been depressing. At least she hadn’t gone through the inferno she’d been expecting throughout the pass-the-speed-limit drive from downtown back to her house. Turns out it was a Saturday where her father wouldn’t be home until 2, dumbass Nifa had mistaken the calendar again. But, that still didn’t change the fact that she won’t ever get the chance to show up next Saturday again, not ever. She couldn’t face Nifa in the eye anymore on that very Sunday morning, having mixed feelings about the maid over a silly little accident. If it wasn’t for her convincing, though, Petra wouldn’t have showed up feeling safe at the concert; heck, she doesn’t even know wether she’d show up if Nifa didn’t tell her to at least be back by 12. But the maid still messed up her destiny. Or not.

Pissed off, she’d left earlier than usual to her part-time shift in Coffee Beans somewhere not far from town. She’d driven her father’s old white Ford with Arctic Monkeys blasting through the radio, definitely not in the mood for Wings of Freedom tracks that would only remind her of the day before, making her go through a mental breakdown of tears disposal once again.

Shift had gone pretty well; bells chiming as customers exchange their ways in and out, muffled conversations that Petra just couldn’t give two shits about, clinking forks and laughs ringing her ears. The only thing that had kept her interested and awake by then was the amazing aroma of coffee beans and cinnamon buns hung in the air. That was, until, a short figure made it’s way into the café.

It approached the cashier and only then Petra could scan who it was. And instead of the regulars she’d expect showing up strangely and greet later on.. It was none other than the Levi Ackerman of Wings of Freedom.

She’d had her own world to fangirl by then, since none in the café had realised the appearance of this hot bassist, as they busy themselves into their stupid little conversations and totally miss the artist’s show up. Unplanned, winter grey eyes locked with Petra’s amber coloured orbs for a second that felt like a year - and Petra could witness Levi’s eyes widen for a split second before completely calming back to his own dull-but-somehow-still-sexy-as-hell eyes. She hadn’t even gotten ready to expect it coming out of his mouth. “Oh, it’s honey from last night’s concert. What a coincidence.”

Petra eyed Levi from top to bottom; he’d dressed casually, a plain black hoodie and tight grey jeans donning his legs, a pair of washed out sneakers and a torn bag hanging by his shoulders. No one in the streets could tell it was him unless they’d scan his face for a minute. Pretty impressive. “..!” Petra had internally freaked out and mentally fell off of the high stool she’d been sitting on as she realised how Levi had remembered her.

“Jeez, calm down.” Levi rolled his eyes, nearing the counter and Petra felt herself blushing all over again. Though the somewhat rude sight of Levi didn’t surprise her, the fandom knew well enough of his behaviours. He’d glanced over her name tag stuck onto her emerald coloured apron before looking her right in the eye, the corners of his lips smirking. “Guess the question’s answered now, huh, Petra,”

She internally screamed again. He had been listening to hers and Erwin’s conversation from last night. Truth be told, Levi Ackerman had never drift his gaze away from the strawberry blonde since the second she’d set foot onto the stage.

The smirk faded off. “You weren’t mute yesterday for all I’d know. Get me an iced coffee.” Levi scoffed, fishing his wallet out and flicking dollars from it. He passed the cash over to Petra (who was still sitting there looking high as fuck and questioning her own existence), whom had only noticed a concert ticket was stiff - handed together by Levi, along with the dollars he’d shallowed. Petra wanted to scream physically. ..Did he seriously save this for me? Hadn’t even been two complete minutes since Levi had walked into the café, and Petra was already on the verge of her seat.

“..You saved this?” Petra had finally uttered the word that had longed to be out. Slowly, she’d even forgotten he was one of the stars in her addictive fandom-ed band. Last night’s nervousness and excitement was still all over her, but somehow she’d feel a little calmer by that very second just being in front of the bassist of the band. Okay, maybe a lot calmer.

He didn’t respond for one second and immediately darted his eyes away. “..Tch, Thought I’d keep this for my stupid neighbour who’s a fan. Honestly didn’t expect to see exist in my life t’day. But yeah, you would’ve gotten one if you didn’t run off yesterday.”

She felt embarrassed over and over again. Slightly shaking her head, also thanking and insisting him to lend the ticket to his neighbour although she didn’t really mean handing it back, just a common gratitude. And when she knew it, it’s her turn to explain.

“I’ve.. kinda.. trespassed my curfew. My father would go ape shit every time I do it. I haven’t been more disappointed in my life, though, just skipping the backstage hour..”

Levi let out a low chuckle. “Eh, I see. Guess you’d still have your chance to show up next week, but don’t pull off a Cinderella and sprint down the pavement again.”

Petra softly laughed, and for an unverified reason, the nervousness in her lungs shrunk away to god knows where. Just talking to someone - Levi Ackerman the bassist, specifically - and having a casual conversation felt so great. “Yikes. I won’t do it again,” She continued laughing.

“I’ve still been wondering, though.” Levi suddenly spoke.

Petra stopped laughing and stared at him, an eyebrow raised. This time, curiosity ran through her guts. If it’s my name you’ve been wondering about, I’m pretty damn sure you’ve said it about a minute ago. “Mhm?”

Levi pulled a plastic from his backpack, the strawberry blonde cashier growing more and more curious as he zip the backpack again. And when Petra traced over the outline of the object wrapped in the white plastic bag, her face flushed deep red as she remembered something she’d thought she’d forgotten.

The raven haired man started. “Just who the hell wears glass slippers to a concert?”