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Beloved Mother

Part 1

Summary: Levi visits the Brothel he once lived in, finally confronting the death of his mother.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, no sex or anything it’s just dark and sad, descriptions of abuse, the men Kuchel works with are not nice to her, sickness, starvation, corpses, blood and gore, life as a prostitute, sex work, non graphic sexual assault, horror elements, my headcannon on how life in the underground was, angst, very little fluff.

Word Count: 10.7k

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40660254

Notes: I’m sorry for the sheer out of sadness and trauma your about to endure.

Part 1 | Part 2

“The last room on the left,” Levi states, sliding a $100 bill across the grimy countertop. Green paper on rough, uneven dark brown wood, the face of some Lord he’d never bothered to learn the name of smiles up at him.

“Pickin’ a room and not the girl?” asks the seedy man behind the counter, an eyebrow quirking up in curiosity. The dingey light overhead practically gleams off of the large bare patch atop his head, highlighting the peachy flush swelling his cheeks and nose. “That’s a strange choice.”

Above him hangs a tall wooden sign displaying the names of all the women on staff, with little removable wooden numbers beside each. Their going rates, rising and falling based on their health and popularity, like meat for sale at a deli. At the top, scrawled in sharp cursive filigree, the establishment's name.

Vanilla.

What a stupid name for a brothel.

“An odd one aren’tcha? Did ya’ come down here just for some pussy?” the man continues to question, eyeing Levi’s clean, firmly pressed shirt. Free from stains, holes, or any yellow signs of age laying claim to the fabric, it’s clear as day that he doesn’t belong down here. Not any more.

Levi only glares in response, wrinkling his nose as a wave of stench strikes him. He’d forgotten just how much everything reeks down here. The thick, stale air rife with the scent of raw sewage and mold. With how hot and muggy it gets during the summer, everyone’s constantly putrid with sticky perspiration.

The salesman -if Levi can even refer to him as that- is visibly soaking through his own shirt, leaving a large dark patch of sweat in the hole strewn fabric. Everytime the man’s gross mouth opens, Levi’s struck by the acrid stench of cheap booze. A sour miasma of spicy meat and hard liquor, still flowing thick through his veins judging by the constant sway wracking his frame.

“Will anyone do, huh? That desperate for a good fuck?” The disgusting, overly sweaty man wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, as if they’re best friends, sharing some secret inside joke. Levi suddenly wishes he could just punch the man, knock some more teeth out to add to the missing gaps. The few that remain are nothing but brownish rotted stumps anyways.

“Last room on the left,” Levi repeats through gritted teeth, glaring right into the man’s glassy eyes.

“That room belongs to Poppy. The redhead, over by the door,” he hiccups drunkenly. The moistened puff of his breath, blown out with each percussive pop, makes Levi’s skin crawl. Indicating behind him with the point of a crooked finger, the man asks, “She’s a popular one, how long do ya’ want her?”

What a wretched fool, speaking of women like their products. Levi doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, responding with a sharp click of his tongue, “An hour.”

Scooping up the money on the counter, the man‘s eyes gleam at the crisp, fresh paper. A rare sight down here, no doubt. “Oi! Poppy! Ya’ got a live one!”

Given nearly double the listed price, the man doesn’t even comment on it. Taking a moment to bring the thin material to his nose, soaking in the scent of clean money. He could easily offer to break the bill, but instead quickly pockets the cash. What a wretched piece of shit.

Normally, Levi would cause a fuss about such a thing. Money might not matter so much to him, at least not anymore, but honesty does. Being here, after all these years, has him too exhausted to speak up. Just standing in the building's foyer has him feeling wrung out, prickles of distant familiarity buzzing along the back of his head.

“Really?” The girl in question calls back, quickly abandoning showing herself off in the entryway to come to his side.

She’s young. Just a girl not much older than his squad, early 20‘s, if that. Tall enough to tower over him, as most people do, by only a half a foot at best. Her head is a shock of bright red hair that instantly reminds him of Isabel, so much so that it makes his chest ache.

It’s long, trailing down in a wavy waterfall, far enough that the ends curl around the curve of her waist. Levi distantly remembers his mother not being allowed to cut her hair. That she had to be beautiful and femine, the tresses easy for customers to grasp and pull to their heart's content. These women have so little control over their bodies, not even the hair on their head is under their control.

“Hey there, Handsome,” the girl greets, voice low and smoky. “I’m Poppy, but you can call me whatever you’d like.”

It’s probably not actually her name. Merely some flashy pseudonym to inspire the image of a bright flower, red petals waving in the breeze as it basks and blooms in the sunlight. An extravagant image, one that most people down here will never get to see. Exotic, meant to draw in customers. A moniker she probably didn’t even get to choose herself.

“Are you ready for a good time?” Batting her lashes, pretty green eyes give him a well faked, heated look. Curling an arm around his, she leans forward to let the neckline of her shirt dip away from her chest.

It’s supposed to be enticing, Levi thinks, but he only notes just how skinny she is. There's so much bone poking out from the neckline of her dress, collar bones sticking so far out from her skin it’s nearly jarring. The hard plate of her breast is practically visible, her arm thin and skinny, lacking any muscle definition as it loops with his own.

Spotting a small ring of fading, brownish purple bruises along her neck, Levi’s chest only aches harder. Fingerprints. The sight reminds him of his mother, her body suffering and aching from a hard day's work.

“Don’t have too much fun with her!” The man at the counter winks, giving him a wide, gummy grin. Compared to the women he employs -if that's even the word for it- the man is downright fat. Plump, no doubt pocketing most of the money himself, casually purchasing expensive liquor and never once worrying about his next meal. Pig.

“Just this way, Sir,” Poppy guides, her tone husky with faux lust. “I’ll be sure to get you your money’s worth, sexy.”

With a pull, the girl leads him down the left hallway. It’s only a short trip, passing a few loud bedrooms in the interim, but every step towards the end feels more difficult. It’s like he’s treading water, each step getting heavier and heavier, the liquid getting thicker and thicker, weighing him down as the end of the hall approaches.

Step after step, his heart seems to pound harder and harder in his chest. Levi has to fight to keep his breathing steady, the buzzing static of panic filling his ears with sound.

The sight of the door, just a completely normal -albeit well worn- slab of wood, makes Levi’s pulse roar, loud and frantic. It creaks, just like it used to. The same, high pitched squeal of metal in desperate need of oiling that he remembers from when he was tiny.

Oh. Oh. It looks exactly the same as he remembers. Just standing in the entryway makes his knees weak, the joints threatening to buckle beneath his weight.

It’s tinier, though he’s grown quite a bit in the passing years. The same grimy, smoke stained wooden walls. The same generic white sheets, folded neatly over the bed. The same flat, cheap white pillow, lacking any sort of cushion or fluff. The mattress is probably different, it’s been twenty-odd years after all, but the bed frame is exactly as he remembers.

Struck dumb, he feels stuck in place in the doorway. The sudden, all consuming weight of his boots not letting him lift either of his feet to cross the entryway.

“Sooo,” the redhead chimes in a honeyed tone sliding her hand along his chest, “Anything you like, Captain?”

Ah. She recognized him. Of course she did. Even out of uniform, donned in one of his few pairs of civilian clothes - a simple grey shirt and dark jeans- people seem to point him out no matter where he goes.

Every time he leaves base, Levi has to steel himself for the inevitable fanfare his presence causes. Men wanting to arm wrestle, women flirting with him -even some men, to be honest. Small children bawling, trying to pry away from their parents in order to meet him. The constant inevitable ‘you’re shorter than I expected’ that always is.

It’s surprising that word of Humanities Strongest had reached down here, though newspapers still travel the ill begotten streets. The pages make useful firestarters, more often than not, only occasionally a worthwhile read. Though, that’s not too common of a skill deep in the slums.

No wonder she seems a bit nervous, her fingers shaking a tad against his sternum. People have always told Levi that his resting face can be a bit imposing, and he’s made no real effort to curb it. She could just be new at this, though, anxious and fearful of whatever experience he may bring about, she is quite young after all.

“No,” Levi responds, his throat so tight the words leave him in a short bark. With a shaky breath, Levi takes the final step into the small room. Immediately, the air feels different, as if charged with static. A shudder builds along his spine, the hair along the back of his neck raising up in a sudden wave of nostalgia.

He fills the space so much more. It’s unsettling, just how much larger he feels. It’s as if his shoulders take up too much space, making him feel gangly and immense, even though the opposite is true.

Stepping away from her grasp, Poppy’s brows twist up in immediate confusion as he puts several feet between them. Approaching the wide mattress, Levi reaches out, shaky fingers almost skimming the white fabric, but missing by several inches.

He can’t.

Turning on the balls of his feet, Levi faces the red head, looking up into her wide green eyes. Appearing a bit unsure, she tries again, coming close to tug at the loop of his pants. “Ready to get frisky, hot stuff?”

Levi grunts, shaking his head in response and sliding a hand into the pocket of his jeans. Retrieving his wallet, quick fingers pull out a small stack of bills, offering it to the girl. “Here.”

“What?” Shock floods Poppy’s features, her mouth falling agape as she eyes the fresh paper. Several hundred dollar bills lined up in a thick pile, Levi doubts she’s seen so much currency in her life. It’s doubtful that she’s ever even seen a $100, likely only scrounging wrinkled up ones and fives.

Arms falling limp at her sides, Poppy makes no gesture to take his offer, merely staring at the green filling his palm. Eyes gleaming, she desperately wants to reach out and take it, he can tell just from the twitch in her fingers. “I’m not allowed to accept tips…”

“Is Jeff’s still open? That fancy bath house a few roads over?” Levi had only been there a handful of times, sitting alongside his mother in the women's bath during a rare cheap day.

It’d been grimy, from what he remembered. The white tile was practically brown with soap scum, the included amenities -soap, shampoo and conditioner- practically water. But the pool had been heated, a relaxing luxury that’s incredibly rare down here.

“Yes…,” The redhead starts, voice unsure. “What… what are you…”

“Go get whatever their best package is,” Levi demands, jerking the cash towards her once again. They definitely had more expensive soap available and Levi thinks they even had a small massage parlor.

“You paid for an hour…and you want me to go take a bath?” Poppy questions, squinting down at him.

“Yes.” Eyes straying, the sight of the mattress makes his chest hurt, so he bounces his gaze elsewhere in the small room. He’s not ready for that, not yet.

The small little closet across from the bed rests open. A dark rectangle stuffed to the brim with bright dresses, so many that he doubts she could even shut the door. Pale silky fabric, the colors muted from aggressive and repeated washing. Reds, pinks, rich greens like the dress she’s currently wearing.

At the sight of it, lurking memories of the small little space flash in his mind's eye, causing distant fear to prickle along the back of his head. Hatred and adrenaline fill his veins in equal measure, making his pulse throb in his throat and nausea well up in his stomach.

The room isn’t exactly the same, he notes, she’s added a bit of her personality to it. A large full body mirror, barely squeezed into the far corner, the wooden edges lacking dark stain in countless bright splotches. Several rough, hand drawn sketches decorate the top right corner, tucked up underneath the wood to poorly disguise a large crack.

Levi isn’t sure how he feels, seeing his tiny childhood bedroom filled up with someone else’s belongings. Robbed, almost, but it isn’t quite the right word. Unsettled, that’s it. Like someone’s knocked his legs out from under him, taking the breath from his lungs. As if he’d never really existed here in the first place.

“So you are a clean freak, just like the stories say,” Poppy almost spits, her act suddenly dropping away. The almost cute, open way she’d been standing gives way for stiff shoulders and an almost judgy cock of her hip.

“That’ll take forever, there’s no way I’d be back in time,” she barks, voice no longer husky and playful. “And it’s way too expensive. Didn’t you pay for sex?”

“No. I’m not here for that.” He couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing.

“Really? Then why are you here?” The girl bites back, arm gesturing angrily in the question. “Wasting my goddamn time. Why do you keep trying to give me money? Is this some kind of shitty joke?”

“No.” There's a particular spot, scratched into the floor of the far wall that he can’t help but stare at. An area that was once raw, bright exposed wood pulp, as his nails dragged and dragged into the rough planks. Now the lines are nothing but groves, darkened over time to almost match the rest of the wood.

He remembers wearing it there himself, waiting and waiting and waiting for his mom to get better. For her coughs to get easier. For her chest to start moving again. Deliriously imagining that one day she’d just perk right back up, sitting up and smiling at him again. I’ll bounce right back, you’ll see.

There’s a dark circle staining the far wall, just big enough to have been left by his small body. The spot is barely visible, Levi feels like he’s almost imagining it. Sitting in his own filth for so long, he’d left a permanent stain, clear evidence of his time spent within these four walls. Mold growing around his little body and festering into the wood like he was already a rotting corpse.

‘You were here,’ the hypnotic imprint practically screams. ‘Welcome back,’ it entices, black edges almost squirming and growing, trying to pull him in. Skin crawling, feet heavy, Levi has steel himself to look away from it.

Eying the hand at her hip, Levi can’t help but note just how boney Poppy’s fingers are, each digit so thin the joints jut out. ”You're taking the rest of the day off,” He commands, even though it’s really not his place to do so.

“The fuck-”

He cuts her off without even pausing, “Go get a big meal afterwards too. Jakob’s Eatery is definitely still open.” It’s where Kenny had taken him, all those years ago. He still remembers the taste of the bread, buttery and warm, the freshest he’s ever had.

“That’s on the other side of town! And it’s the priciest place around.” Opening his wallet once again, the stack of hundreds more than doubles in his proffered palm, making Poppy’s eyes shine in open want.

There’s the all too familiar, desperate look that everyone down here has. The hollow, faded light of an open want deep in her gaze, twinkling at the sight of something she desperately needs.

Eyes suddenly sharp and wary, jaw locking up stiff, she asks, “What’s this gonna cost me?”

Down here, free stuff usually comes with a catch. Something that’ll usually wind up costing you blood, sweat and tears in the end. A fact Levi knows well, having spent years on either side of the exchange. He has no doubts that she expects the deal to end sour, as they always do.

“Absolutely nothing,” Levi assures, the words sounding like a promise.

“Humanities Strongest is just handing out money to whores now?” The question is almost a taunt, fingers twisting and tugging the green fabric at her thighs. “Why?”

“Does it matter? I’m sure you need it.” At his words, she takes the deep sigh, the strength in her shoulders crumbling.

“I can’t…I…shouldn’t…” With a click of his tongue, the stack doubles once more, neat and proper, all of the bills facing the same direction. Poppy’s lip quivers at the sight.

“You can,” Levi assures, shoving the cash towards her one more time. Fingers uncurling from her dress, Poppy’s hands rise but don’t move to grasp the offer.

“Take it,” he spits out in a disgruntled command. This is taking far too long, he’d expected her to be more eager, taking the money and running like most impoverished people would. “Take it and go.”

Roughly shoving the paper into her grasp, more money than she’d make in a year fills her hands. It’s nothing, only a few months pay, certainly not enough to buy her way out of here. “Hide it. Don’t let that pig at the counter pilfer any of it.”

Levi doesn’t use his money for much anyways. His paycheck may be meager compared to some, but truthfully he only really spends a bit of it on tea. With three meals a day and everything else included on base, he has very little use for it anyways. It’s better off in the hands of someone who really needs it to survive.

A thought suddenly occurs to him, so Levi asks, “Do you have any family? Kids?” He only brought a bit more, but he’s more than willing to fork it over if the girl has a little brat somewhere.

“No it’s just me,” Poppy replies, suddenly sounding so small and defeated. Gaze locked onto the bills in her boney hands, the girl almost looks like she’s about to tear up. “Why are you doing this?”

“I just want this room for a bit,” Levi explains, glad that her gaze isn’t on him. Now that his goal seems accomplished, Levi feels a bit shaky facing the reality of what he’s done. Dread looms along the back of his head, dark like the stain he’d left on the far wall. He’s not ready.

“You want to sit alone in my room?” She seems wary again, eyeing the handful of knickknacks decorating the bedside table. Tiny, no doubt meaningful little wooden carvings of animals. “Why?”

“This was…,” Levi flounders a moment, struggling to put his intention into words. He’s never really spoken to anyone about his childhood, the words feel like lead on his tongue even now. Even with the people he’s been closest to -Furlan, Erwin, Hange- he’s only ever given the basics. It’s her space now, even though it’s invaded often enough by random men. She deserves to know something at least. “I grew up in this room.”

“Oh,” Poppy breathes out all the air in her lungs in one long sound. “Oh Walls.”

She suddenly looks even younger, shoulders hunching in on themselves, face open and childlike. Maybe she’s even younger than he’d thought, closer to her late teens, the mature look merely a part of her carefully practiced facade. “I understand. My childhood bedroom is in the right hall, in the middle.”

She’s never even left here. It suddenly strikes Levi how lucky he was to get out. Not even just above ground, merely the fact that he’d left this almost literal prison. Escaped the seemingly endless cycle of children shouldering their parents' trauma, following in their footprints, selling their bodies in order to survive.

Levi suddenly wishes he had more power, even though he would hate such a thing, so that he could bring her above ground. Free her from this life like the children Historia is rescuing. Maybe he should mention the women down here, during their next meeting, the terrible lives that they're forced to endure. The Queen could surely do something, prostitution is technically illegal, after all. They’d probably make good caretakers for all of the bedraggled brats they’ve managed to bring into the light.

Helpless to his own intention, the dark stain draws his vision back like a magnet. It feels like a gaping chasm of blackness, a hole in the wall drawing him right back where he belongs. Levi can almost make out the curve of his little head, the boney jut of his tiny shoulders marking the wood in smooth, discolored slopes. ‘Why’d you leave me?’ it seems to ask.

Bile fills up in the back of his throat, filling his mouth with acid. He could have died here. Levi’s been close, many many times, both in the Underground and on the battlefield, but never as near as he had been in that spot, right on the other side of the room.

Turning to leave, Poppy pulls the stack of bills to her chest, green on green, light against dark. “Do you…,” she starts, pausing for an achingly longtime. “Do you mind if I use some of this to feed some of the neighborhood cats?”

The words almost make him smile, despite the tremor building in his limbs. Even after becoming an angry spitfire, she seems to have a soft spot for animals, evident in the little wooden ones scattered across her desk. It reminds him of Isabel, trying to take care of any creature she’d gotten her hands on. After they’d managed to heal the first small bird she’d brought them, many a cat or dog had followed. “It’s yours. Do whatever you want with it.”

Smiling softly, the girl twists the doorknob, rattling it loudly in her hand, almost bouncing on her toes in a flurry of excitement. “Take your time, Captain.”

“It’s Levi,” the response comes automatically. He’s always hated the title. It feels undeserved, like he’s only lording his strength over others. “Thanks, Poppy.”

“Auduree,” her name comes in response, followed by a wide smile, cash crinkling one her palm. “And thank you.”

Watching her back, the blades of her shoulders jutting out from her skin through the fabric, Levi suddenly hopes she’s smart enough to find a way to make it last, perhaps grow. Even if she can’t buy her way up the stairs, there may be a way for her to leave this wretched lifestyle. Become a barmaid, a seamstress, anything that doesn’t lead her towards dying in the same building she was born in.

With another metallic squeal, the door clicks shut behind her. A loud ominous clack, sending the room into pitch darkness. It makes his ears ring, mind buzzing as goosebumps rise along his back, making him shiver in looming despair. It’s exactly like the last time he was here. He can’t do this.

He has to. After all this time, he has to.

Eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness, the far wall taunts him again. ‘Welcome Home,’ it calls, greeting him like an old friend, moldy black edges almost unfurling to pull him forward.

With a sharp intake of air, Levi crosses the short distance to that hypnotic portion of the wall. Shoes clacking loudly on the grimy flooring, Levi slides his back down the filthy planks, landing on his ass with a heavy thunk. The wood is almost sticky, the grain familiarly rough, both at his back and along his legs. Shirt and pants no doubt acquiring large stains, he can’t find the energy to care.

It’s as if his brain shuts off, consumed by the pitch black stain of his own making. All of the background chatter buzzing along the back of his head clicking off the moment he settles in place. Like every casual function his body automatically runs has simply shut down all at once, rendering his mind silent and his body heavy and defenseless.

Ears ringing, he suddenly forgets everything that’s happened in his life, feeling small and terrified. Alone and desolate once again.

Sitting exactly where he had all those years ago, his wider body dwarfs the dark impression. Levi almost wants to shrink in on himself, to tuck up tight and pull himself into the little hole he’d made. Just sitting in it brings tears to his eyes, salt stinging and welling up along his waterline.

Throat tightening, he fights the emotion welling his throat with a thick swallow. Pinching his eyes tight to fight the tears threatening to overflow. Levi hasn’t cried in years, a decade, probably. Not since Izzy and Farlan, at least. He hasn’t allowed himself to.

Already, before he’s even begun confronting the reason for coming here, he can feel his carefully placed mask cracking. Large, splintering lines spider webbing through his stoic facade. The demons of remembrance -the literal corpse- pervading this room still loom and yet Levi can already feel himself breaking bit by bit.

Hands shaking, he lines his fingernails into the small groves left clawed into the hardwood floor. Right where he starved, his tiny body becoming even littler, nearly skeletal. Skin pulling tight over bones like wet paper, stomach acid burning and eating away at his insides in lieu of any nutrition.

Times an odd thing in the underground, without sunlight as a guide, especially stuck in a tiny box of a bedroom, nary a window as a guide. To this day Levi doesn’t know how long he had sat there. Sat here.

Days, weeks -definitely. A month -impossible, but it'd sure as hell felt like it.

Finally, Levi allows himself to really look at the bed. The glaring white fabric of it burns his eyes even in the darkness, stinging right alongside oncoming tears. Headless to his own intention, a hollow voice leaves him in a wet croak, “Mom.”

Staring at it, legs splayed out, arms limp by his side, all his breath escapes him in a large sigh. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it, the burning in his lungs far outweighed by the pain in his chest.

“Hi Mom,” he warbles, voice thick and uneven. Levi aims the words at the far side of the cushion, where she’d slept every night, right by the door incase of intruders. Not wanting to even think the words, they come anyway: Where she died.

Blurry eyed, staring into darkness, her ghost seems to flicker into his watery vision. Shimmering and whole, her features a wet blur. Levi blinks frantically to try to clear his eyes to catch it.

With one hard blink, she disappears, leaving only the morbid remembrance of her decaying body. Still there, tucked right beneath the sheets, grey and skeletal. Lip trembling, he blinks and blinks, trying to clear his watery gaze and blink away the image. The vision doesn’t leave him no matter how hard he squeezes his eyes closed.

A body, rotting and festering only a few feet away, just as it had before. Its skin is so grey it’s nearly black, dried up and crusty with rot. Nearly see-through, the visage is merely a result of his horrified mind playing tricks on him. Haunting him. His own imagination simply -painfully- filling the blank spot just as it had been in his youth, like slotting a puzzle piece into its proper place. Despite knowing this, it hurts. A sharp, resonating stab deep in his rib cage.

Cracks spreading, the rest of his facade crumbles into tiny bits. The remains of his carefully built mask falling right into his lap, to be painstakingly pieced back together hours from now, whenever he summons the strength to leave. With a shaky, shuddering gasp, a tear leaks and trails down his left cheek. Shoulders shaking, only more follow.

Heart seizing high in his throat, he nearly chokes on it. Sour nostalgia floods him, filling his senses with horrid awareness -sights, scents and smells that he’s desperately tried to forget.

The rotten, festering scent of his mothers corpse fills the air in memory. Even after all these years the smell of it fills his nose, rancid and meaty, making him nearly gag. It’d been almost sour, pungent with a tinge of sickening sweetness. Pervasive, all consuming. No matter how long he sat it’d still burned his eyes, the reek scorching his lungs.

Flies had quickly filled the space, filing in from small cracks in the walls, buzzing around her at first, then right in his face. Too weak to move, to even attempt to bat them away. He hadn’t been conscious a lot, often fading in and out due to severe starvation. He remembers waking to the sharp sting of insects picking at his face, eating him alive and laying eggs in his hair.

In the distance, maybe a few doors down, Levi can hear the sounds of springs creaking. The heavy rapid thunk of a wooden bed frame slamming into a wall, followed by long groans and high pitched cries. The noises are all too familiar, bringing him right back to all the late nights he’d desperately waited for the sounds to end so that he could sleep.

The room even smells the same as it did -before it’d housed a corpse. An unpleasant, woodsy scent of rotting wood, growing mold and burning tobacco alongside body odor and cheap womens perfume. Vanilla, he remembers, oily and far too strong. The business buys it by the gallon, a tongue-in-cheek reference to their namesake.

Above everything pervades the musty, filthy stench of sex that’s burrowed it’s way deep into the bones of the building, never to leave.

Memories flood back, swimming into his mind's eye in a kaleidoscope of random scenes. Levi doesn’t think of his early years too often, the time too painful, too dark and hopeless to dwell on for long. They’re hazy anyways, usually far and distant, as if he’s experiencing them from another’s perspective.

For years, he’d steadfastly avoided this side of town, even the very thought of it. It’s been so long, Levi can’t really picture his mother’s face anymore, the features only appearing as a blur in his memories. The sound of her voice distant in his mind, just out of reach, falling through his fingers like sand.

“Mom. I'm sorry. I…” It hurts, the fact that he hadn’t truly thought about her in so long. Makes his heart squeeze as if someone had caught it in a vice, twisting and twisting even though it still beats in his chest.

Now, staring at the ghost of a corpse, memories flood into his mind in full color. Vivid and crisp, like his first true glimpse of sunlight.

She’d smelled sweet, he remembers now, the scent-memory filling his nose. Like fresh flowers, though Levi hadn’t known that at the time. Whereas everything else was dank and musty to his nose, she was always fresh and clean, even coated in grime.

It was rare that they got to bathe. Actually, truly getting clean, rather than merely toweling off the day's sweat and muck with a wet cloth. Levi remembers feeling constantly itchy, grit and sweat clinging to his skin and body oil greasing his hair.

Even in those conditions, his mother always seemed to shine. Her hair was always soft and fluffy, pale cheeks rosy and pink. Her mouth wide with a bright smile whenever she knew he was looking.

She’d always been so soft and endlessly sad. Battle hardened through years of hard work, of selling her body to survive, and yet seemingly always on the verge of tears, though she did her best to hide it. Putting on a strong bravado, yet crumbling to pieces the moment she thought she was alone. Frail and skinny, nothing but skin and bones, yet strong and resilient until the end.

She had a mouth on her, he remembers now. Always speaking to him in such a soft, sweet tone, but it was a vastly different story with everyone else. Full of bite and vinegar, she was undeterred in telling anyone off if the situation required it.

Levi remembers waking from an odd dream, a loud slam jolting him from slumber.

Bang.

“Ma’. Wha’ that noise?” Levi asks, blinking hard to clear the sleepy haze from his eyes. Sleeping curled up mostly on her chest, his tiny little feet are tucked over her hip.

Their home is rarely ever quiet, so it’s not unusual for there to be some sort of noise. Usually slamming sounds in one of the adjacent bedrooms, sometimes a man yelling. Often a woman crying, even multiple from direction. As a perpetually light sleeper, even the frantic scramble of a rat in the walls tends to wake him up.

Bang. Bang.

Fear floods Levi’s veins like ice, the chill shocking him into stark awareness, making him claw his fingers into his mother's arm. The sound is loud, far too close. Right against their door, only a few feet from their bed. Raising his head from her chest, he looks desperately into his mothers sleeping face.

“Mama?” he calls quietly, voice barely a whisper. Podding her face with a tiny finger, she only sniffs and jerks her head away from the touch, burrowing her cheek into the thin pillow and mumbling nonsense.

“G’back t’sleep,” comes slurred from her lips, pressed right to the white fabric. Mama must be tired, she always sleeps deeply. Sometimes it’s so difficult to wake her up.

Bang Bang Bang. The slam of each is hard enough to rattle the door on its hinges, so much so that the walls shake. With every blow, his little body seems to tremble harder.

Mind racing in fear, pulse throbbing hard in his throat, his thoughts whirl to images of terrifying, monstrous intruders. Huge, fleshy Titans that want to eat him whole, just like in the stories he’s heard whispered on the street. Thoughts whirling with his mothers words, about how the outside is dangerous. That even down here there’s bad people who want to hurt them, and that he has to be careful since he’s so small.

Bang.

Levi quivers, lying stiff on his mothers belly as the slam nearly shakes the bed. Breathing hard, chest heaving as he fills down rapid puffs of air. The sound seems quiet now, compared to the loud beating of his heart.

The doorknob rattles with an ominous twist, the metal sound raises all the hairs up along Levi’s arms and neck. Raw unfettered terror floods him, watching the metal handle slowly rotate, as if time has crawled to a near standstill.

Terrified, Levi can’t look away. Afraid that if he does, the next thing he’ll hear is the familiar creak of metal as the door slams wide on its hinges. An open and gaping pit of darkness for the monster to step through and join them on their bed.

It turns with a click, before the wood jerks against the lock with another loud bang. There's a gruff series of muttered swears, followed by what sounds like a swift kick to the frame. Sheer horror floods him as the kick is repeated, nearly bringing the door down with it.

“Mama?” Levi tries again, voice shaky. The call is only a bit louder, fearful of being heard by whoever- or whatever- might be trying to get in. Poking his pointer finger hard into her cheek, he whimpers, “M’ scared.”

“Hmm?” Mama blinks awake with fluttering eyes, her hand sliding along his back. “What is it, sweetie? Did you have another bad dream?”

Bang. A thunderous slam causes her to jolt, sleepy eyes immediately sharp and aware. The fingers at his back become claws, painfully digging into his skin and pulling him closer.

“Tight,” Levi complains, feeling her long nails dig into his skin through his shirt.

In the darkness, Mama’s eyes almost seem to glow. The white parts shine, bright and luminous, as she glares at the closed entryway to their little home. The nails at his back bite hard into his skin, cutting right through the fabric with the sheer strength of her grip. “Ma-,” he hisses quietly, afraid to make too much noise. “It hurts.”

She doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at him, only glaring at the hardwood. Face twisted in a snarl, her entire body seems tense beneath him. “The fuck do you want?” she asks, voice harder than he’s ever heard it before, still a bit rough from sleep.

Bang Bang Bang, the door shakes yet again, nearly falling from the hinges with the intense kick. A man’s voice follows in a loud angry bark, “Olympia!”

“Oh,” Mama sighs, some of the tension bleeding away from her form. The nails at his back fall away, fingers shifting to wind soothing loops into the aching skin. “It’s just my boss.”

Still strung tight, the words do little to calm the frantic beat of his heart. Levi hates the man and his stupid red face. Always getting right in his personal space, screaming at him the few times he’s tried to play in the foyer while his mother worked.

Globs of gross yellow spit flying and landing on Levi’s skin, the man always leans right into his face, far too close for comfort. Telling him he’s an eyesore, calling him a hideous waste of space. Constantly, angrily asserting that Levi is in the way, that he’s scaring away valuable customers.

Even when he’s not spending time in the foyer -something he readily avoids now- the large man is constantly glaring at every available moment. His dark, scary eyes practically burn him the moment he and his mother try to pass through to leave the building.

With several more wall-shaking bangs, his mom’s boss continues to yell, “Olympia! Answer me you useless whore!”

“That’s not your name-,” Levi whispers, trying to keep his voice low, “-it’s Kuchel, right Mama? Why does he call you that?” Nowadays, Levi tries to make himself as small as possible whenever that man is around. Hunching his shoulders, trying not to speak too much or too loudly, so as not to gain his ire.

“Shh, sweetie,” Mama coos softly, petting along the back of his head. Voice hard again, she asks, “What is it Gereg?”

“And finally the bitch answers,” Gereg snarks, yelling through the hardwood. “Ya’ got a live one! Time to get to work!”

“What?” Mama’s voice rises in shock, almost shouting as she glares at the dark wooden slab. “It’s the middle of the night, Gereg.”

A foot stomps loudly, the sound of a hard leather boot against wood, followed by an immediate reply, “And people wanna get fucked. Brothel’s never closed, you know that.”

“Want me to go in the closet?” Levi murmurs. He hates it there, the boxy space is so tiny and small that he can’t get enough air. All the dusty, well worn dresses hanging above his head -bright, silky layers of cloth that Mama only wears when she’s working- always make him itch and wheeze.

The worst part, though, is hearing some strange man gasp and groan, filthy words on his lips as he uses Mama. Hurting her, making her cry out. The rapid slap of skin on skin, right on the other side of the thin wooden door.

She tries to disguise what’s going on the best she can, begging him to close his eyes and cover his ears, but Levi knows. He doesn’t really understand, but he knows. That they’re taking something from her, piece by piece, leaving her hollow and empty, covered in nothing but sweat and bruises.

“No, sweetie,” she whispers to him, pulling his head forward and planting a kiss right between his eyebrows. Eying the doorway once again, she yells right back, “I’m not doing it Gereg, find someone else.”

“Is it because of that fucking brat ya’ got yourself knocked up with? Useless piece of shit, ya’ shouldn't've had ‘im. The boy’s nothing but a burden for ya’,“ Gereg notes, cruel and snide.

As they always do, the man’s words hurt. A deep ache builds in his chest, tears building up in the corners of his eyes. No matter how many times Mama tells him not to listen, they still sting. They make Levi want to curl up in a little ball and cry, to hide away so the man can never speak to him again. Sniffling helplessly, Levi nuzzles his face into Mama’s neck.

Her grip hardens again, nails biting into his hair this time. When she speaks, her voice is nothing but venom, “Don’t you ever speak about my son like that again. I’ll kill you.”

In her resurging fury, the whites of her eyes glow once again. Bright and ominous, full of a strange power Levi doesn’t yet understand.

Only a toddler, Levi doesn’t really comprehend what’s going on, but the threat in her voice -paired with the strange look in her eye- results in a full bodied shudder. A cold, jittery sweat that brings goosebumps from the bottom of his spine to the top of his head. Anxious, he brings his fingers into his mouth, sucking on the digits and tasting the odd salty metallic flavor there.

Mama says he shouldn’t suck on his fingers anymore. That they’re far too dirty, and that the dirt could hurt him and make him sick. The gesture brings him comfort though. Distracted by whatever is going on, Mama doesn’t even correct him this time.

“Olympia.” The man’s voice cuts through the wood full of warning, a threat using only her pseudonym.

“You know I could,” Mama spits right back, eyes wild and baring her teeth. “What I am.”

What are they talking about? Levi’s caught a few familiar words, like ‘work’ and the insults that still ring in his ears, but for the most part the conversation is beyond him. The exchange mostly just a heated back and forth of angry tones, something that he can recognize easily. Little else seems to make sense.

“You’d have nowhere else to go, little lady,” Gereg points out, tone nearly malicious. Almost gleeful, despite the menacing undertone.

“Fuck off, Gereg. Not tonight.” At her statement, Mama snuggles his head closer to her neck, patting his back as if to sooth him back into the dreamworld. “Let my son and I sleep. There’s plenty of other women here for you to whore out.”

“We’ll discuss this in the morning,” the darkness calls back, sounding as if hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” she replies, white eyes still full of rage. “Yes we will.”

With one childish stomp of a foot, the presence moves to leave the closed entryway to their tiny home. Stomping away, a trail of heavy footfalls shakes the hallway in his wake.

The entire back and forth far beyond his understanding, Levi’s only really gathered that Mama is mad. She doesn’t have to work, he doesn’t have to hide in the closet, but something Gereg had said upset her. One word sticks with him, burning hot and sour in his mind.

“M’ I a burd’n?” asks Levi, his voice small and muffled by the fingers in his mouth.

“No no no,” Mama assures in a hurried rush. The odd light filling her eyes is gone now, leaving only the usual softness in its wake. She presses a quick kiss to his hair. “Don’t you dare listen to that pig.”

“From the very first moment I held you, Levi, you were nothing but a shining light in my life,” coos Mama. Hands tucking under his armpits, she lifts him up high above her so that his feet dangle. Smiling right into his face, she chimes, “My own little patch of sunlight.”

Always carried around in his mothers arms, Levi’s only ever caught a few stray beams of the light, cascading from the dark rocky canopy above their home. They’d been warm against his cheek, soft, like his mothers kisses. “No, Mama. You.”

“My sweet sun,” she hums with a soft smile, pulling him back to her chest and cocooning him in her arms. “Go back to sleep for Mama, okay. It’s late.”

“M’kay.” Surge of terrified energy fading, he feels exhausted now that everything has settled. Levi’s eyes become heavily lidded the moment the steady beat of her heart thrums beneath his ear.

The man didn’t ever bother them at night again. When the pair had entered the foyer to leave to grab dinner the next evening, Levi thought he might have been limping. The way he’d walked had been a bit stiff, something clearly wrong with his right knee, forcing him to drag it stiffly behind him. Usual scorching glare gone, the man had barely been able to look at Levi as they exited.

Now, as an adult, the man’s words rest heavy on Levi’s shoulders.

Burden.

Despite his mother’s assurances, he thinks Gereg -the man who basically owned her- may have been right. He can’t imagine how much more difficult it’d been to feed two mouths rather than just her own. How expensive the few used children’s books she managed to purchase him were, the paper and pens she’d used to teach him to read and write. It must have cost so much, to buy him outfit after outfit as he grew.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracks, the words right in his throat. It’s hard to swallow, a large, thick ball of emotions clogging his throat.

She’d done so much for him, even though she was basically property. Whatever the power is that fills their shared blood -something Levi didn’t even realize she had, but of course she did- urging her to fight and defend him in whatever meager way she could. In retaliation, Gereg had only cut her pay, a petty response to her defense.

Sniffling and fighting tears with several hard blinks, another memory fills his vision.

Levi remembers walking on wet uneven dirt, carved through far too many times by the heavy wooden wheels of horse drawn carriages. He has to be careful where he steps, lest his foot disappear into the deep, muck filled grooves.

Fingers wound into the back of Mama’s dress, he follows behind her as they make wide looping paths through the busy road. Crowded on a hot summer evening, warm sweaty bodies constantly jostle and brush his own as they make their way through the busy street.

Nails dig into the white fabric, pulling it taught away from her skin as he follows close behind her rapid pace. He has to be careful, Levi remembers. He dare not make any holes in the soft fabric, she always warns.

They’re tedious to sew. It’s annoying to carefully wind the shiny little needle in and out of the fabric over and over again until every little gap pulls tight and disappears. Mama always makes him do it now, saying it’s good for him to learn. That his little fingers are much better at threading the needle than her own. Steady and precise, unlike her own shaky digits.

Complaining that he’s growing too quickly, Mama had only stopped carrying him around a few months ago. He misses being up there, high in her arms, instead of walking in the sticky mud. There’s rats down here, big and hairy, scrambling over people's feet and gnawing on rotting bits of moldy food.

She walks so fast, Levi struggles a bit to keep pace. Stumbling, nearly tripping several times, little feet catching in his baggy too-big shirt. His lone article of non-sleepwear, the aged yellow edges constantly drag behind and gather filth in his wake. ‘You’ll grow into it soon enough’, Mama had said, helping him roll up the long sleeves high around his arms. ‘You’ll see.’

Passing a darkened brick alleyway, raw sewage sloshes out from a nearby drain in a loud slurp, joining the mess of horse shit on the muddy dirt road. The sight makes Levi fight a gag, his nose curling up in disgust. “It stinks.”

“I know, sweet sun,” Momma calls back, her watchful eye never truly leaving him even as she cuts through the thick crowd. Levi knows his alphabet now. He knows she means sun, not son. Referring to him like the bright yellow light in the sky that he’s never seen.

“We won’t be on the main road too long,” Kuchel continues over shoulder, squeezing her eyes tight with a thin lipped smile before turning to forge ahead.

It’s hot out, Levi can already feel sweat beading along his hairline. Mosquitoes buzz about in the sweltering heat. He has to hop over a little puddle of stale yellowish water, teeming with the long legged blood-suckers. The odd drowning noise of cicadas is loud even above the rukus of the crowd.

This is where most of the stores are, more towards the middle of the underground city. It’s a short trek, one they have to take often. Various vendors line the sides of the street, selling anything and everything Levi can imagine. Bright, colorful soaps with scents he can’t even name. Books, thread, clothes, and cleaning products, all lining the sides of the street beneath water-worn overhangs.

There's a dog here that always terrifies him. Skinny and grey, it’s matted fur falling out in large raw patches. What’s left of the mangy hair no doubt teeming with the insects that Mama so often checks his head for. Lice, he thinks they’re called.

It must have been hit by a carriage at some point, because one of his eyes hangs out of its socket, dangling to leave the hole an open wound full of puss. One leg no longer working correctly, it limps and sways, dragging one foot heavily behind in its wake. When it’s not begging for scraps it screams. Loud and painful, a long screeching wail that rings in Levi’s ears. Echoing even in his dreams, the sound often shocks him awake and into his mother’s arms.

Spotting the mutt in the distance, a chill ghosts along his spine. Hugging Kuchel’s leg, Levi presses his face into the back of his mothers dress, right above the back of her knee. “Scary,” he mumbles into the fabric.

“I know, I know.” She turns towards him, grey eyes catching his matching ones. “Keep close, Levi.” Reaching out a hand, he takes it immediately, wrapping his little fingers around her giant palm.

Thankfully, as they approach the food section, the dog turns into an alley, limping off to harass people somewhere else. Seeing this, Kuchel squeezes his fingers, smiling softly as he immediately breathes a bit easier.

“What do you want for dinner?” Kuchel asks with a soft smile, grey eyes nearly blue in the flickering lamplight overhead. “It’s your turn to pick.”

“Hmmm…,” Levi hums, looking out at the stalls lining the sides of the narrow street. Eyes catching hanging bits of dried meat and piles of colorful fruit, a favorite catches his attention. “A watermelon!”

“That’s a good idea! What a smart little man! It’s too hot out, it’ll be a nice treat!” With her free hand, Kuchel ruffles up his hair. Ruining the perfect part he’d combed into it himself only a few hours ago, making Levi pout. His expression only makes her chuckle, quickly turning into full blown laughter as he tries to pat his head and fix the mess.

“Yay!” he cheers, bouncing happily in place. He loves watermelon! It’s so rare that it’s brought down from above with the rest of the produce.

As they approach the stall in question, she lets go of his hand. Excited, Levi runs forward, standing on his tiptoes to lean over the wooden edge of the stall. Exuberantly slamming his hands onto the gourds, poking and prodding them for soft, rotten spots. Down here, produce is rarely fresh, something Mama has repeatedly warned him to be wary of.

Pressing his ear to one, Levi bumps his knuckles against the rind, listening for the deep hollow, wet sound of ripeness. Kuchel comes up to his side, smiling down at him. “Are there any good ones?”

“Uhuh, but I haven't decided which one is best yet,” he replies, switching to a larger watermelon right next to the previous one.

There's one that’s already squashed, burst open from a large yellowish green patch of rot. Small little gnats buzz around it, slurping at the tiny pool of pink juice. The saccharine, overly sweet smell makes his mouth water, only adding to his building excitement.

Patting his shoulder softly, Mama wanders over to the board the fruit vendor sits by. A tall sloped slab of wood full of numbers and names, prices he can’t really understand yet. “Oh-,“ she breathes with a sigh, “-they're a bit pricey.”

The words make Levi pause, staring mournfully down at the striped green rinds. One finger sliding down the rough yellow patch on a large, perfectly ripe one, sorrow fills his voice, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Levi. They’re just too much, we-“

“I can help you with that, babe,” a tall, thin man cuts in, rapidly approaching his mother's side. Drenched with sweat like everyone else, his face is coated with a thick smattering of dark, crumb filled hair.

There's something about his casual, flirty tone that makes Levi’s hackles rise, tension stiffening his little shoulders. Watching his mother cringe, Levi asks, “Mama?”

“A pretty thing like you should never go hungry.” The stranger wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her back into his chest. Teeth slimy and yellow, Levi can practically smell his rancid breath from several feet away.

“You work at Gereg’s place right? Vanilla? In the red light district?” The man breathes right in Kuchel’s ear, his grease soaked hand sliding along her stomach. It leaves a large, gross brown imprint in the perfect white of her dress. A stain in the shape of the stranger's grimy hand.

“No…I…,” Kuchel stutters, trying to shake off his grip by bumping her shoulder hard into his chest. “Remove your hand, please.”

Anxiety fills Levi's stomach, hot and heavy, like he’s swallowed boiled rocks. He looks to the fruit vendor for help, but the sallow old man just watches out of the corner of his eye, pretending to go about his usual business. The rest of the crowd seems to do the same, a hundred odd eyes just watching in silence.

No one cares.

“Come on! I’ve seen you there before!” the man calls, his fingers sliding down towards the edge of her dress. “Come with me around the alleyway real quick, you’ll get your money.”

The sight fills Levi’s stomach with dread. His mind swimming with sights he shouldn’t have seen, caught through the small gap in the closet door. Visions of bare flesh, men touching Mama, hurting her long after she’d begged them to stop.

“Mama?” Levi calls again, too scared to approach in his uncertainty. Eyes flicking back into the passing crowd, hoping that someone, anyone, will step forward and do something.

He can’t even move, his legs suddenly too heavy. As if his ill fitting shoes -so tight they make his toes hurt- have been sucked ankle deep into the muddy roadside. Only able to watch as the stranger grinds his crotch into his mothers backside.

Kuchel speaks through gritted teeth, “Can’t you see that I am shopping with my son. It’s my day off!”

Leaning forward, the man whispers in Kuchel’s ear, “I have a knife.”

Dread stabs his chest in a visceral jab. Utter fear floods Levi’s entire body, cutting off the next call for Kuchel right in his throat. A raw, primal sense of danger prickling along the back of his head and making it impossible to think. He can’t even breathe, it’s as if his lungs are so tight he can’t even fill them with the littlest bit of air.

Kuchel gasps, shoulders shaking as she tries to pull at the hand pawing at the bottom of her dress. “Stop,” she pleads.

“I could always just take what I want. You're a whore after all, no one would blame me.” At the words, his hand slides to her ass, staining the white of her dress further. “The boy could even watch, maybe learn a thing or two. It’s not like I can get in trouble anyways, not down here.”

No one cares, Levi thinks again.

Furious, Mama quickly twists around in his arms. Gripping his collar tight, Kuchel’s face twists up in unyielding rage. Pulling him down to her level, she spits a firm, “Fuck you,” right in his face.

Fist clenched tight, she swings, knuckles colliding with the man’s nose. It cracks with a loud popping noise, gushing blood down his front lip and staining his shitty beard a dark red. The sheer strength of the blow makes the man stumble back several paces, arms flailing in an attempt to keep upright.

This is the first time he’s seen it fresh, Levi thinks. Warm and wet, instead of flaky and dry, coating his mothers bruised skin.

“Crazy bitch!” Grasping his injury, the man immediately begins backing away. The skin around his eyes is already tingling dark with a bruise, red beginning to drip and stain his shirt. “You’ve just lost a customer.”

“Good fucking riddance,” Kuchel yells, waving her fist high in the air above her head, a rebellious look on her face. Bouncing on her feet, the end of her skirt dances around her thighs as she shouts at the retreating man. “Reeking piece of shit.”

Feet finally free, Levi quickly runs to her, wrapping his arms tight around one of her legs with a loud sniffle. Patting the top of his head Kuchel asks, “I’m sorry you had to see that. Are you going to cry?”

“No,” Levi warbles, eyes and mouth wet as he digs his nose into her knee. One hand swipes at the brown grease staining her belly, as if he could somehow clear it away and make her clean again. Like the incident had never happened.

She crouches down to meet his eyes, giving him a tight, shaky smile. “Are you alright?”

Mama’s fingers comb into his hair, trying to sooth him. Levi’s eye twitches a bit, as her digits mess up his hair once again. “I should be asking you that!”

Kuchel smiles wide, white teeth shining. “Of course I’m alright, don’t worry about me.” She pulls him forward, kissing the tip of his nose. “I hope that didn’t cause you too much stress.”

“I’m fine Mama,” he responds. Truthfully, his heart is still slamming hard in his chest. Adrenaline and anxiety throbbing through his veins, making him a bit nauseous.

“You punched that man,” Levi’s voice is full of awe, jaw dropping in disbelief. His kind, sweet mother just beat a man hard enough to draw blood.

“Yeah,” she huffs a breath, standing proud with her hands on her hips. “Yeah I fucking did.”

“He deserved it,” Levi asserts with a solemn nod. They’d had a conversation before, about violence being necessary sometimes. That one day, if they stay down here, he may need to defend himself.

Only if it’s necessary, he remembers her saying.

“Yeah he did! Treating women like that…did you see the look on his face? He probably shat himself!” She jokes with a chortle, wiggling her eyebrows.

Levi giggles loudly, his mind filling with the image of a dark stain growing on the man’s pants. “Pissed himself too, I hope.”

Clicking her tongue, Mama’s gaze strays back to the nearby price board. “You know what? I don’t care if the watermelons are expensive, we’ve earned it. Go ahead and pick one.”

“Yay!” Lingering worries fading away like the flip of a switch, Levi immediately runs excitedly back to the small stand.

Later, they sit hip-to-hip beneath flickering red lamplight, the flames casted the tone by a thin film. Red light district, he remembers the man saying. Levi wonders what’s so special about this street that all the lamps are tinged such an odd shade.

Together, the pair eat cracked, uneven splits of fleshy pink melon. They ended up having to pick a tiny one, limited by the small handful of cash Kuchel had on hand. Still, it’s ripe and sweet. Refreshing and cool against the scorching summer heat. It almost tastes like victory.

So juicy that it leaves Levi’s hands sticky, his face and neck dripping with juice, but he doesn't care. Kuchel’s in equally rough condition, large drops of sticky liquid pooling at her wrists and streaming down into her sleeves.

The texture’s his favorite part. The fruity meat is a crisp, crumbly smattering of layers that fall apart beneath his teeth. Almost crunchy, every bite filling his mouth with a liquid wave of fresh, fruity taste. The hard black seeds are annoying, far more than the stickiness dripping onto his pants. Momma spits them out, but Levi prefers to pick at them with his thumb before every bite.

They often eat here, huddled up on a small bench beneath the lamp light. Making fun of drunkards as they leave the bar next door, swaying and struggling to walk upright. Betting on which one is going to stumble and fall on their face, cheering and clapping loudly when one eventually does.

The rusty metal bench creaks in protest as Kuchel swings her arm, mimicking her earlier jab. “I can’t believe I did that! Did you see his face!”

Mouth full, Levi nods his head enthusiastically, frantically chewing so he can respond, “You almost knocked him on his ass.”

“Sure did!” She replies, imitating the punch once again, rough bits of melon falling free from her slice in a spray of liquid as she swings.

“A pig!” Levi squeals, remembering the insult. The large pink-skinned creatures sit penned in a small fence by the deli not far from their home, often bathing in their own reeking filth. Snorting his nose, Levi imitates the rough oinking sound they often make.

“That’s right!” Kuchel cackles, eyes bright. “Oink oink!” she snorts with her head thrown back. Kuchel laughs and laughs, deep bellied guffaws that shake her shoulders and bring tears to the corners of her eyes. Eyes shining, face bright and open, cheeks flushed with joy.

Levi thinks that was the happiest he ever saw her.

All these years, he’d always thought that part of him, his filthy rough vernacular, came from Kenny, but maybe it was actually part of her. Some of his shitty humor, too.

Distantly, Levi wishes he could draw. Use his own two hands to sketch the memory of her smile into existence on stark white paper. The soft, thick tresses of her dark hair falling over her shoulder. The tiny little smile lines creasing the skin around her lips, wide in an exuberant smile. Every happy little crinkle around the edges of her eyes. In lieu of the skill, Levi pinches his eyes tight, trying to burn Kuchel’s features into his retina’s, never to fade again.

She was beautiful. Kuchel had hated when customers had called her that, or any variation of the word, but it didn’t make it any less true.

“I look just like you,” the words escape in one long breath just as he comes to the realization. The same charcoal grey eyes, right down to the sharp curves and tired look. The same button nose, plush lips and stern eyebrows. Even their jawlines are identical.

It warms his heart to know that some part of her lives on in him, even if he isn’t considered traditionally handsome. People may balk at his uncommonly dark hair, his too pale skin, but it doesn’t matter, not anymore. He looks like his mom.

Part 2

#this is still in my head..like every day the last few months #I love this one so damn much #Tay... this...#THIS is so freakin' awesome #and heartbreaking #I love this one SO much #u all have no idea how much #go and read #<3 #TW:death

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