Taking Up Residency-Invite

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

Backdated to May 7th, 2016

Two weeks ago:

Hannah sat across a table from the silver haired gentleman, dressed in a pair of jeans and plaid button down, long sleeved shirt. He had just set his napkin down on the table, to the right of his plate and looked at her in shock and profuse dumbfoundedness. “You’re what?” He asked her after chewing down the remains of his tilapia fish, the same colored violet steely gaze on her face.

Hannah smiled as she stuck her fork in an asparagus, grabbed her knife and cut it up into smaller pieces. “I’m relocating. To Canada. I took a job there, dad.” Hannah popped a tiny piece of the green vegetable in her mouth and started chewing it down while he interjected. “Canada? Why Canada?” Her dad asked, still puzzled about this seemingly sudden, and random choice.

“Dad, I’m almost thirty. In a couple years” Hannah reminded him, not wanting to actually admit that fact was just around the corner, with a shrug of her shoulders. She didn’t have an answer Hannah could actually give him. “Look, I won’t be that far from mom. It’s only a couple of hours on a plane. I….just need a change.” Hannah said as she put her linen napkin down over her plate. “I don’t want to argue with you. Not in my last few days here. Please?” Hannah asked, her voice meeker than it had been before as she smiled at her father while they sat at their weekly dinner ‘date.’ It was a way they kept connected during their very busy schedules, with work, hobbies and her younger sister, who was now a sophomore at the same university she graduated from. “You all can come visit me any time. Holidays, birthdays...I have an apartment there already.” An apartment arranged for her from the Yakuza, one that was two doors down from her target.

“Sounds like I can’t change your mind then.” Her dad sighed and said with a grumble, returning back to his tilapia. “No, dad. I leave on Tuesday. Everything I’m taking with has been packed and shipped.” There was a clang on his fork on the plate as he started to process what she was telling him.

“That’s only five days away.” Hannah nodded, still working through the asparagus she had cut up. “I start work at the hospital on the weekend. I needed a few days to get familiar with where I’m going to live.” Hannah set her own fork down, gently coaxing him to her sudden life altering decision. “Let’s make plans for Christmas, right here and now.” She reached a hand out and placed it on his hand. “I’ll take a couple days off before or after. You pick.” Hannah picked up her hand and returned it to her lap.

This was how the rest of the dinner was spent, making plans of who was visiting who during the next upcoming holidays, Hannah giving what little insight she had about Harper Rock and the therapy department she was going to be working for, talking about things she needed to do still, and finally, talking about her younger sister and step mom. Everything ended on a positive note, or as positive as it could, her dad promising to stop by the night before to help her clean her apartment and then seeing her off to the airport the next morning since she was selling her car.

Now:

Long auburn strands had been secured in a top knot messy bun for the night as Hannah appeared to be moving boxes from the door by the hallway, to inside her new apartment. In truth, she was hoping to catch sight of her neighbor two doors down, and taking her time at moving the last of the smaller boxes (something she had done for two nights now), inside her apartment. Eventually he would have to come in or out of his apartment, right? They would have to run into each other at some point.

Hannah didn’t know a lot about Levi, other than the apartment number he lived in, that he had dark hair and had an Italian accent. The Yakuza either didn’t feel the need to share what they knew with her, or wanted to keep her out of the loop in some things, which wasn’t anything new. Though she was capable of taking a couple boxes at a time back inside and at the wall near the door’s entrance, Hannah only took one at a time, to eat up more time and to gain more opportunities at seeing her neighbor. She wasn’t positive how she was going to get close to the guy, but nothing was off the table in her mind. When it came to the safety of her family and her own life, Hannah was going to do whatever she needed to do, even if it didn’t line up with her own code of morales. “Just a job. Hopefully the last.” The woman mumbled to herself, tucking a long strand of her hair behind her ear. Hannah had plans of not returning to Japan after the job, or taking her time with it, hoping that eventually, the Yakuza might forget about her, or she might be able to fall off the face of the earth. She just needed time to make sure nothing bad was going to happen to her family, primarily her sister.

Hannah hunched over to grab a box, eyes moving from the elevator, to the door of the mysterious man she was supposed to be keeping an eye on (unsuccessfully), and grabbed a perfectly squared box that had an array of books in them for her small, white colored bookcase not far from the fire place in the apartment. As Hannah did this, the white, sleeveless shirt she was wearing and had been tucked inside her black denim, pulled out of the waistband, but went unnoticed. The shirt could go either way, depending on the wearer’s preference, but if anyone actually gave it any real thought, they would wonder why anyone that was moving, was wearing an all white blouse. Maybe it was signs that the person wasn’t really doing all that much moving in, or that the person never actually moved much (if anything, in their life).

Hannah propped the door open with her left foot, using the bottom of her flat footed soles to achieve the task, which caused one of her newly acquired pats to run out the door. Hannah didn’t mind cats, and remembered her mom Leah having one before her dad and her moved to Japan, but thought it a rather strange gift to give someone. A long haired cat, swirled with orange and white bolted out of the apartment, unnoticed by Hannah (having been a pet owner for three days now), the woman closing the door behind her as she started making the stack she made last night, all over again. Glancing at where the cats once were, and seeing one of the two of them, Hannah believed the cats to both be in the apartment...just not in the same place.

Hannah proceeded to bring box after box in, working from largest to smallest, until each box was inside and the door was closed. Another night with no luck of catching the Italian, middle aged man. She was either going to have to take a more aggressive approach and actually knock on the guy’s door, or find some other way to get his attention. Not sure knowing what other methods she could try, Hannah moved to the kitchen, filled a mug with water and popped it in the microwave. She moved from it to fish for the glass instant coffee container, found it, moved to the refrigerator and pulled out the hazelnut creamer, and set them both on the counter besides the microwave to locate a spoon in one of the drawers.

After opening two drawers, Hannah finally found what she was looking for. Not actually spending a lot of time at the apartment after having moved in, Hannah couldn’t remember which drawer held what in it. Eventually she would know the layout of her kitchen like the back of her very hand, but that wouldn’t happen for months. Between the twelve hour shifts at the hospital and navigating through the city, chances were Hannah would be eating out a lot, or eating at the hospital itself.

Her thoughts were broken away when a cat rubbed against her legs, leaving white matted to her black jeans as it tried to draw in her attention. “Hi, Magnolia.” Hannah bent down and gave the cat a few strokes, glancing up to expect her brother, Amarillo to be following in after her. He didn’t so she moved to the sink, rinsed her hands off from excess cat hair and then proceeded to pour two teaspoons of the coffee granules in the light green colored mug, stirred it in and then poured in some of the creamer, the coffee taking on a light tan color, until she was satisfied.

Hannah tossed the spoon in the sink, then moved to the light green and white based living room, where she sat on a taupe colored couch, feet at her side as she sipped at the coffee in the mug. The cat followed her, jumped on the couch and curled up on the corner opposite of Hannah. “Amarillo?” Hannah asked, starting to wonder where the cat had gone to, as her head swiveled to the left and the right, peering down the hallway towards the master bedroom. “Kitty! Here kitty-kitty-kitty!” Hannah crooned in the direction of the hall, believing him to be in the bedroom, curled up on it, more than likely. When he didn’t come, Hannah set the cup down on the end table and slowly stood up. “Amarillo?” Hannah asked as she padded through the hall and flicked on the switch to the bedroom seeing-him gone. He wasn’t there. “Amarillo?” Hannah asked as she padded to the bathroom, peered in and didn’t see him. Then it hit her, he must have gotten out.

She felt sick and a sense of dread. It was her cat, but it wasn’t. They had given it to her for a reason, which meant it was her responsibility to take care of it. Hannah bolted for the door and looked right, then left, not seeing the cat anywhere. No one could miss a bright orange and white swirled, four legged creature with fur galore. “Amarillo?” She called, looking at the elevator. She was almost positive she hadn’t heard anyone come in or out of it, so the chances were good that someone knew where her cat was on this floor. Hannah moved to the door that belonged to the apartment next to her and gave it a gentle rap. Waited a couple seconds, and then rapped on it again, this time with more emphasis. There wasn’t a single sound coming from inside the apartment, so she moved to the one across the hall. She knocked on that one and the door almost instantly opened. “Hi, I’m your new neighbor...my cat. Have you seen an orange and white cat around here?”

“No. It’s against policy to have them out of your apartment too.” A gruff male voice barked at her before the older guy slammed the door in Hannah’s face. She debated on flipping the guy, or more specifically the door the bird, but decided it was best not too, even if he had been a crab *** at her. She glanced to Levi’s door, and started to disregard it. She hadn’t seen him leave or come in, or seen any sign of life from that apartment, so it was probably a good indicator that he wasn’t home. Hannah shook her head and moved to the next apartment, with an older woman with hair as white as Magnolia’s but curled on top of her head in tight curls. “No, sorry dear. I haven’t seen a cat. I’ll keep an eye out though.” With another no and then no answer at the apartment, Hannah was left with little choice. She moved to the door, cautiously, and gave it a quick rap before stepping back, feeling her heart pound against her chest as she waited to see if he was home and if he had her cat. Not the first time she wanted to meet him, but here they were.

[Levi DAmico]

Perhaps there is something tragic about spending your Saturday night working, but, for the Vampiro, every night was a work night. And why not? There wasn’t much of an alternative, there was plenty that had to get done, and Levi enjoyed the income and the sense of satisfaction he got from what he saw as being nightly victories. In fact, now that he had little else to do with his life other than work, there was no reason not to devote the daylight hours to this effort too. Well, aside from being a grumpy *********** that was. Because while the Shadow had kicked his habit of becoming a ******* coma patient when the sun rose, that didn’t necessarily make him feel any less like he was having the ******* life siphoned out of him. It was very similar to having the flu or a day-long hangover: full body aches coupled with nausea, a touch of light-headedness and an increase in sensitivity to light and sound cursed his every waking moment. Suffice it to say, it made the already volatile man into a ******* dragon, but the minions were slowly getting used to that. He would say he just wasn’t a morning person, which had always been true, but morning grumpiness tended to slacken by about midday and Levi only stopped blazing around the building when the sun set. The good news was that they’d stopped asking questions, the bad news was that it didn’t make them any less suspicious. Taking up a pet was probably the straw that broke the camel’s back then.

Maybe it was because he was lonely, or maybe because he missed having some wild, savage force in his life that was a conflict of love and hatred, but Levi had adopted a Bengal cat a couple of months ago. He’d named him Bester, a proud name for a ******* beast, because that’s exactly what the little ******** was. The Bengal is a relatively new breed of cat, originally created by crossing an Asian Leopard with a domestic cat. Whilst the domestic Bengal is similar in appearance to the Asian Leopard, and its genetic makeup contains a contribution from that wild cat species, its temperament is supposed to be purely domestic. Levi had a feeling that they’d just given him the full dose of Asian Leopard because Bester was a ******* nightmare. At six weeks old Bester was the size of an average house cat, but neither seemed to realise this or actually care when he was using the Vampiro’s office as his own personal jungle. Young Bengals are naturally hyperactive, excitable, and take a few months to learn their manners, but at 5 months old the little **** hadn’t changed in the slightest – well, if you excuse the fact that he’d just gotten larger with age.

Bester was a large, sleek and very muscular cat with his hind-quarters slightly higher than his shoulders, and a thick tail that was carried low like a hunting tiger. The beast had wide, alert eyes the colour of honeyed sage, and his wild appearance was enhanced by the distinctive spotted coat. Already the size of a medium-sized dog, Bester looked like a miniature Snow Leopard with its pearl coat and brown rosettes, but worst of all, it behaved like one as well. This was probably a mark on Levi’s training methods and why the man shouldn’t be allowed to rear children. Levi encouraged the mischievous behaviour even though he was often at the brunt of it, and allowed Bester to explore his habitat wherever that might be. Still, the beast was an indoor beast, a domestic animal, so outdoor activities were strictly off-limits. Primarily, Bester had the run of Levi’s personal office and occasionally the Vampiro brought the cat home via use of tomes and Fadeportals. It was safer to carry the beast at short bursts after all, because any prolonged contact meant biting and scratching on account that everything was a game.

Surprisingly, the cat’s temperament was affectionate if not just a little too energetic. Bester had a habit of playing rough –like his owner – because both males tended to be fierce and direct on the outside, but purring, playful kittens deep down. It was easier to recognise in an animal than it was to recognise in Levi, however. The man had built a wall of a reputation over 31 years and he’d learned the costs and risks involved in being exactly who he was. Levi was a man who was easier to hate than he was to even tolerate because he wanted that. He didn’t want anyone close enough to figure out he had flaws and weaknesses, and every event that had dared to push against this design only ever proved to secure its legitimacy. Levi was priming a dragon’s hide around his vulnerabilities; he was looking to become invincible – even if it was just in the eyes of others. That was why he wasn’t reacting to the tornado of **** that had stirred up in the past couple of months, and that was why he was looking calm and placid like he gave no fucks and this was all water off a duck’s back. Levi was so casual in fact that he openly used Lorelai’s old apartment like a transportation hub and even dared to stay there for hours when it suited his schedule. Life was running at its regular pace and Levi was not about to let any motherfucking thing stand between him and what he wanted. And if they tried? Well, it was their funeral…

“I am going to shoot you,” the Italian warned. “Right in your stupid, noisy face if you don’t get the **** off there.”

A yowl of complaint came from the beast perched by three lanky legs on the window sill; his fourth scraping against the plaster of the wall, his tail twitching as it tried to secure a balanced grip.

“You’re too ******* big to fit, dumbass,” Levi continued. “And you’re not going out that way because you’re not a bird.”

Another yowl of complaint that sounded very much like the cat was screaming, BUT NOOOOOOW, as those slitted eyes stared longingly at the city beneath. They were ten storeys up with nothing but asphalt and speeding vehicles beneath them, and yet the cat didn’t seem to understand exactly why his exceptionally cruel and horrible master was telling him that he couldn’t go out the window. The breeder had blathered on and on about the deceptive intelligence of the Bengal cat when they were setting up the adoption, but obviously the woman had forgotten to emphasise how deceptive that intelligence was. Levi began pinching the bridge of his nose as plaster dust fell like snow onto the white oak flooring, and the sound of leather pads and claws pounded the glass. That wall would need repairing and maybe Levi could get a new shelf put up while he was at it – a preventative strategy for Bester’s growing needs and mounting repair bills. It felt like that shelf had only been up a week as it was, and now it was going to have to be torn down and replaced with a larger one. Levi hoped that he hadn’t inadvertently adopted a baby Snow Leopard because he was sure that even his overtly large office space wouldn’t be able to tolerate a cat of that size bouncing about day and night.

Truth be told, Levi wasn’t really bothered by whatever damages Bester caused or by how that beast leapt from one fascinating toy to another as if he was a crack-head left to explore Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. It only got annoying when it interfered with work or when Levi was already in a foul mood. Tonight’s event had fallen into the second category, which invariably rolled over into the first category and vomited on his shoes. Both feline and dragon were restless from being cooped up in one room, so maybe it was time for a change of scenery. Without so much as a warning – a low growl, a stomp of footsteps, or a shower of threats – the Italian left his throne-like chair, scooped the beast from its perch under his left arm, and activated the tome. In the blink of an eye, four white walls, polished floors and a twinkling cityscape gave way to a boxy room of taupe and shade, and a view looking out onto Thornside Park. They’d teleported across the city from Levitan Headquarters to West Towers, but Levi wasn’t planning on a prolonged stop. He was about to step through the Fadeportal to another destination of darkness and brooding when he heard footsteps outside the door of the apartment and then, unexpectedly, a rapping of knuckles on the wood.

In Levi’s world, usually a knock on the door was just a formality to coming in anyway – but Cosa Nostra didn’t always knock. Levi remained where he was, his arm still hooked around the cat’s midsection, his other hand prepared to reach for a gun and point the muzzle at someone’s face and threaten them should he need it. Levi had to be prepared to shoot as much as he had to hold himself back and make sure he wasn’t blowing a random neighbour away or something. It was possible that this was completely innocent, like maybe it was some kind of charity service going door to door, and there was also a possibility that someone was looking for Lorelai – the listed resident. That thought made him laugh because maybe he should just shoot the person in the face. Just one irrational display of self-indulgence could make him feel tonnes better. Or, there was the option that he could just ignore the door and get on with what he was—

YOWWWWLLL

“I ******* hate you.”

Before he even thought about opening the door, Levi promptly turned around and bowled the cat into the room. If there were a set of pins laid in the centre, Bester would have totally knocked them all down, instead he skittered across the empty wooden floor, veering left and making for the open-plan kitchen. Levi knew exactly what his little beast was up to, so he left the ******** to jump onto the kitchen counter for the much needed vantage point as Levi pulled open the door. First rule as a cat owner: never give enough space for an opportunistic feline to slip through, so the Italian opened it just large enough to step his foot into the gap. Dark umber orbs surveyed a similarly profound creature standing at the other side of the door – no doubt the person who’d knocked. Auburn hair fell out of a messy bun, trailing like vines down skinny shoulders. One plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans adorned her demure figure favourably, but Levi’s attention focused on those bright eyes staring up at him like he was probably some kind of monster. It was funny how that happened, but also not ******* surprising in the slightest when his 6’00” muscular frame was dressed in dark Italian suits and starched white shirts. He looked like a criminal – a shady tycoon – because he always wore a scowl and a dull look in his eyes like your very existence was deficient in value to the time you were requesting. The way he talked to people and the way he sounded didn’t exactly help matters either…

Generally low and deep, his voice could be described as husky, gravelly, smoky and guttural, but more commonly came off as vicious and grouchy. Those people weren’t technically wrong. That Boston-Italian accent could also grate on the ears, create a hostile impression, almost to the point that if you weren’t convinced he was Mafia before, you were now. The only thing that tripped that implication up was what Levi said. Mostly the Italian spoke very little, sharing words like they were gold, and being basically ******* Smaug from The Hobbit, Levi was quite selective with the pieces he gave. If it made him look like some knuckle-dragging thug, then he really was fine with that. The less people expected of him, the easier it would be to pull their world out from under them when the time came. Nevertheless, Levi often forgot his own rule about judging a book by its cover. He had no ******* clue that the woman standing on his doorstep was sent here to spy on him. So when he addressed her finally – some two or three seconds after yanking the door open and checking her out from top to bottom – Levi was wearing his trademark frown and grumbling voice: “What do you want?”

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

Hannah was just about to turn away, figuring Levi wasn't around, when she heard the door go through the typical opening procedure. A gust of wind was heard as the door popped opened, resulting in the dark haired woman to turn around and see him. To see Levi. Her eyes fluttered up from his chest, to his eyes and remained there. Suddenly, Hannah was...intimidated. Not just nervous and slightly panicking, but she felt frozen in fear as the beating of her heart increased and she felt the back of her neck start to perspire.

The single picture she had seen of him, didn't do the male any justice. It had been a side profile, from the waist up. Levi looked 'normal,' in the picture. He was tall, taller than her. Not surprising, as a lot of people were, but it felt as if he were significantly taller than her. Maybe it was due to the way he was staring at her, or something she made up in her mind due to the fear that riddled her. Hannah felt naked. Not in a perverse sense, as if she were eye candy to Levi, but in the sense that he might see the truth by just staring at her. He seemed menacing, powerful and even dangerous. Deadly. She knew it when the Yakuza told her that Levi was her focus in Harper Rock, but the sense of danger hadn't been felt until now. And Hannah wanted nothing more than to tell them she wasn't going to do this. She couldn't do this.

“Oh. Hi. L-” She caught herself before she said the male's name, from a nervous slip of the tongue. What did she want? What an open ended question. A lot of things. But in this sense all he cared about was why she was at his door, interrupting him.”I-I lost my cat.” Her mouth felt dry, as each word escaped from her lips. “A white and orange colored male. Ha-have you see him?” She took a small step back, eyes finally moving away from Levi's face, hoping that would sooth her nerves. The distance would slow her rapidly beating her, and her skin wouldn't feel so clammy. “His name is Amarillo. I was moving in and.” Hannah shuffled her weight on her feet and pointed to the door that was hers, as if giving him proof. She licked her lips, while her body was turned at an angle that had her facing her door, but still keeping an ear on him. “He got out.” Hannah returned her gaze to Levi, not wanting to keep her eyes off him for too long. He was dangerous. She had to keep reminding herself of this, as to not let her guard down. And that reminder made her way to tuck tail and disappear back inside her apartment where he couldn't see her. Stare at her and try to dive into the depths of her darkest secrets. The fact that she was only here because of him. Her life revolved around him. He was her life.

“I'm sorry.” Hannah laughed nervously before taking another step back. “Forget it. I don't want anything from you.” It was true, Hannah didn't want anything from him. She needed things from him. They wanted a surplus of stuff on Levi. He wasn't anything to her, just as she was nothing to him. “I'll keep looking.” She didn't turn her back to him-no. Instead, Hannah just stood there, waiting for Levi to lcose the door after dismissing her, putting the door between the both of them.

[Levi DAmico]

As dark umber eyes inspected the woman before him, he couldn’t help but think how this whole situation seemed eerily familiar. Some poor, helpless damsel was stood in his shadow asking for assistance – begging for it really, and then… not so much any longer. She was back-tracking suddenly and Levi could practically perceive that desperate need in her to rewind time and never knock on that door again. Perhaps he was scowling at her so hard he’d given her the distinct impression that he wasn’t interested in her life and her problems. Ordinarily, that would be true. Ordinarily, those people hadn’t lost a feline companion. Sod it all and damn it all if Levi wasn’t suddenly wishing people had been right about him. Those people who’d accused him of being a heartless ******** time after time obviously had no idea about his soft spots. Not that they could be blamed when Levi basically acted like he was inhuman – above it all and beneath it all at the same damn time. The Italian didn’t give two shits when it came to people; he wasn’t interested in socialising unless he had something to gain from it. People were alike in that sense because altruism was just a figment of an idea that allowed people to feel like they were better than others. Levi decided that he was better simply because he was honest about how much of a ******** he was. The Italian regarded his time as a precious commodity and since he was such a ******* control freak and heavily business-minded, Levi made sure to limit those moments of waste.

“Long hair or short hair?” Levi asked, and although he was still pretty much glaring at the woman in front of him, his tone had softened to the point where it no longer sounded like he was barking at her for crossing onto his territory. “What type of cat is it?”

Was he really going to do this again? Had he not learned from this lesson a thousand times in the past? But the Italian viciously defenced his position, his actions, to that little voice in his head that was calling him a ******* idiot. He insisted that this wasn’t about that kind of pussy, but cynicism laughed in his face nevertheless. Levi was not the charitable sort, where a good deed would fill his stomach with warm satisfaction. Whiskey was better at giving him that warm, fuzzy feeling and drinking didn’t involve any sort of social interaction. And this couldn’t just be about a cat because he wasn’t a hippy, he wasn’t interested in saving Mother Earth or any of her creatures. Those umber eyes saw the brutal, sharp reality of life and death and didn’t grieve or mourn for anything. He no longer even missed Lorelai, and a large part of him had forgotten the woman had even existed as anything but a lesson in his life to ******* trust his instincts. He’d known from the beginning that they weren’t right for one another and maybe he’d pushed this preconception so hard onto the fabric of reality that it had become woven into the threads, but it was whatever at the end of the day if he couldn’t learn from it – or wasn’t willing to.

Meanwhile, Bester had decided that he was simply bored of watching from a distance. He leapt down from his perch on the counter top, leaving a carpet of fur on the granite counter where food was once prepared for the homeless. Long, purposeful strides carried the miniature Snow Leopard across the empty space of the room until he curled against the leg of his master. Levi felt the warm, blunt skull nudge the back of his knee before it tried to force past. The Italian didn’t budge, confident that he hadn’t left enough room for the ******** to sneak through, and his efforts were rewarded – at least for a while – when Bester could barely get his snout past the gap. That small pink nose twitched like a rabbit’s as the beast breathed in swift, sharp gasps of freedom that were just out of reach, encouraging him to be ever more forceful. He pushed harder, his head needling back and forth and side to side, but Levi wouldn’t budge. Upon realising the futility of his actions, the cat turned spiteful. With claws barely protruded from its massive paw, Bester flicked his wrist and gave Levi’s calf muscle a warning strike. Up until then, the Italian had done well to ignore the ******, but that small, sharp whack to his leg was difficult to tolerate much less ignore when there was undoubtedly going to be a follow-up swat. It was instinct that made Levi – calmly, yet firmly – kick his leg back, and it was instinct that made Bester wrap both stringy forelegs around that limb and bite.

It was a hug that wasn’t a hug because Bester was in ‘attack’ mode. Still being very much a kitten, despite his size and the length of his claws, the beast saw no reason why he shouldn’t treat his master’s leg very much like one of his stuffed animals. Yet, this was far better than one of those static bags of cotton because the prey moved and reacted, eliciting more hunting behaviour. Levi felt teeth and claws press through his trousers, itching at his skin in sharp bursts, and while it really was less painful than it was annoying, the Italian knew he had to put a stop to this **** at once. First of all he had to recover whatever remained of his dignity because he had no doubt performed a magical transformation right before the neighbour’s eyes. It was probably akin to watching the Discovery channel, where the tiger stalks onto the scene before coldly suffocating its tiny prey under massive jaws. But the tiger doesn’t kill the deer, just incapacitates it, and this is met with abhorrence by the audience until cute little tiger cubs bounce into focus. Suddenly, harsh judgements turn into cooing justifications because the tiger’s no longer some wild, heartless murderer, but a parent – protecting and nurturing its own. And if that were the case with Levi, then it was probably a good thing that nobody could read his thoughts that swirled around the idea of drowning the kitten…

“So… yeah. Cats,” Levi murmured, sounding somewhat exasperated as he reached down with one large hand, grasped the beast by the scruff of his neck and pulled him off like Velcro. “They’re a pain in the ***.”

And, maybe the Italian wasn’t thinking straight, or maybe he just thought it would be a good idea to lighten the mood as he basically dragged Bester to the Human’s eye-level like an offered gift. Bester was very still for that moment, those long limbs hanging down his slender body like a gathering of furry entrails attached to a head. Sage-honey eyes stared at the woman with a doll-like visage and if the cat hadn’t been so animated just moments ago, you might be convinced that he wasn’t real.

“If we don’t end up finding yours, you can always have this one,” he smirked, but Levi wasn’t serious. “Ya know, if you like being treated like a ******* chew toy.”

Promptly, Levi turned away from the woman and bowled the feline back into the room. The whole scenario played out as before where Bester skittered across the wood flooring, swerved and drifted left, and then bounded for the counter again. The only difference this time was that while Bester was perched proudly on the counter, eyes alert and ears pricked, his master was exiting the apartment and closing the door behind him. A strange pang of guilt swept through the Italian’s chest at the thought of leaving his cat alone in that ******* hovel, but, he quickly forgot about whatever dangers Bester might find himself in when umber orbs turned on those mortal blues. Really, what was the worst that could happen to the feline? Prudence and Robin were basically the only people who had access to the apartment, as far as Levi understood it (but really, who ******* knew the truth about anything when Lorelai was involved?). If either of those Vampires damaged his property, they would pay for it, but frankly the Italian doubted that either one of them would drop by, let alone try anything against Bester. Judging by the boy’s name and his basic wimpy and pathetic nature, it was certainly likely that Robin would be eaten alive by the aspiring Snow Leopard. Maybe Prudence didn’t like cats on account of being a dog person, but, she didn’t seem like the sort to snap the necks of kittens. She might shoo the cat out of the apartment, which would result in Levi running around on two cat-hunting escapades in one night, but the chances were slim. It was impossible enough than he was doing one let alone two.

“So what’s your name?” Levi asked after stepping into the hallway. It would be easier to get the pleasantries out of the way now so they wouldn’t have to call Oi you! should one of them find the missing moggy. But, since Levi wasn’t the type to shake hands, he didn’t automatically offer one and simply stood with his back against the door awaiting her answer.

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

While there was an extended silence between her and Levi as Hannah stood there, the beating of her heart had reached a deafening upsurge. At least she thought so. Maybe it just seemed that way because she was intimidated of the man in the doorway. Who wouldn't be? How any expected her to incorporate herself into his life on any level was beyond Hannah's frame of mind. The guy had a glare that would probably make the head...whatever of the Yakuza slink back and second guess themselves.

He spoke suddenly, instead of closing the door which was promising. A small opening. Very small, but one she had to take. No matter what she was thinking and how Hannah felt, she wasn't here just for herself. People were depending on her, even if they didn't know it. "L-long hair." She stammered as her gaze moved off of Levi and his more than slightly menacing physique to the apartments on either side of his door. "It's a, uhm, well." Hannah knew the type of cat they were, but seemed to have spaced out. Her mind went blank, which caused her face to drain of whatever color that remained on her face. "Oh, it's a...long haired, orange and white..." She felt like an idiot and if he thought she was one, well, Hannah was in that moment.

A cat appeared in front of her face as Hannah struggled to recall the type of cat she had and she smiled a little. "It's not like yours." Well, that was a great start. She was an idiot. A hand more or less smacked across her face as her face grew hot and her cheeks were dashed with pink embarrassment as Hannah peeked at the offered cat, feeling slightly sorry for the thing. Levi appeared to have a cold, harsh demeanor to him, and weren't cat people supposed to be anything but that? Not that she had much room to judge, but given the toss in the room it seemed like he didn't want or appreciate the cat hanging around.

Not much more thought was given to the type of person a cat owner should be, because the door was closed and Levi was staying. He was continuing their interaction and appeared to want to assist her. Her eyes moved off the closed to, to Levi who asked her her name. Again, she felt the color dwindle as Hannah debated between two choices. Tell him her real name, because what would having a first name hurt? Or give him a fake name, because everything about her was fake. The cats were not really hers. Living here hadn't been her choice. She wasn't paying for the rent here, they were. The choice to relocate to Canada hadn't been her decision either. This life was a complete and utter fallacy, so why not add in a fake name to it too? "Heather." Hannah blurted out, deciding a name with the same letter as her name would be easier to respond to. "My name is Heather and he's a siberian." Finally, Hannah was acting like a half way normal person, or at least a half-way intelligent person. Hannah pulled at the white top she was wearing and then slightly turned away from Levi, deciding to start heading back down the hallway again. "The cat." She followed up, realizing she had two very different trains of thoughts going on.

"His name is Amarillo." She confessed as Hannah stopped at the floor garbage shoot, pulled it open, peered into it and then turned her head so that her ear faced the shoot. She tried to listen for the meowing of a cat, or some form of life a cat would make if it was stuck in the shoot, but all Hannah could hear was the slowing of her heart in her chest as Hannah grew just a little more confident or at ease. They were in a hallway, looking for her cat. It was more than likely impossible he would do anything to anyone in a hallway. As she closed the shoot door with a reluctant shake of her head, finding it unlikely that a cat could get in there, because of the heaviness of the metal door. "What's your name?" The seemingly shorter woman asked Levi as she turned away from the shoot to give him her full attention. Hannah realized she hadn't asked it yet, which might have been a little strange since she had given her name and now one of her cat's names to Levi.

A door lock turned loudly down the hall, capturing Hannah's attention now as a man in his mid to late thirties (at her best guess) popped his head out, looked at the two of them and then looked at Hannah. "You looking for a cat?" He asked, opening the door all the way as he stepped out to reveal a worn out white tank top, with socks as worn out as the shirt, and a pair of sleek, shiny shorts the color of an apple in the peak of its picking season. Hannah stopped her slow leisurely walk to look at the male and then nodded her head. "I am, an orange and white one. Have you seen him?" She asked, disregarding Levi for the time being as she handled the matter of her cat with a neighbor in the hall, whose door she had knocked on before knocking on Levi's.

"Yeah. That's the one. Was scratching at my door. Opened it and it shot right in. Can't get him out from under the bed." The guy confessed with a shrug before stepping out of his apartment and extending an arm in, as if inviting Hannah inside the apartment. "If you can call him out, that would be cool. Otherwise, I don't know what else to do." He stood there, eyes primarily fixated on Hannah, but every so often tossing a glance in Levi's direction out of simple inquiry as to who the guy was with the girl.

[Levi DAmico]

So apparently getting information out of Heather was like trying to get honey from a jar. Words dropped from her mouth in golden blobs and sinewy threads, and Levi swallowed down whatever she gave him like it was medicine – necessary, but not exactly palatable. He had more information on the target though; the missing moggy went by the name of Amarillo, who was a male Siberian with an orange and white coat – that would be fairly hard to miss in an apartment block that forbade pets of any and all kinds. The Italian was about to tell her a simple trick to finding a stray cat, but paused his thoughts when she’d stopped to check a trash shoot. Unless there was a malicious prick – that wasn’t Levi – skulking about the building, he rather doubted that Amarillo had disappeared down there. Felines had a knack for being impressive, intelligent creatures, but they lacked the dexterity, strength and cunning essential to opening a heavy metal door like that and propelling themselves down into an unfathomable drop. No, they would most definitely need help for that – Human help most likely because the hallway reeked of them. And it didn’t take long for the same, albeit vague, understanding to make its way into Heather’s brain too because she promptly closed the door, turned away and shook her head glumly.

Levi wasn’t entirely aware of what triggered his reaction, but it seemed he almost pitied her when she looked back to him with those big, pleading blue eyes. He’d sighed and averted his gaze from her like it was too hard to watch, but that just presented bigger problems for the Vampiro. In trying to ignore her and find a distraction, he ended up with more than he’d bargained for. A heightened sense of hearing pin-pointed a kaleidoscope of sound: television sets, boiling water, cutlery scraping across porcelain plates, the cries of an infant, and various nondescript chattering amongst a pattering shower of heart beats. What the Italian also heard were footsteps – close, purposeful and careful, like someone was approaching their front door and listening out for the sounds coming from the hallway. It was someone listening to them, and Levi frowned when he felt that uncomfortable paranoia begin to crawl into his skin and begin clawing at his insides. A pulse rose, so intimately close that the Vampiro was almost convinced that it was his own as his anxiety spiked, but then he heard something else, a question in a honeyed voice asking for his name.

“Levi,” he managed in what was most certainly a growl, but he was on the move too suddenly for it to be an issue.

Firm footsteps, which most certainly had more weight to them than the sound they created, carried the Italian slowly down the corridor. He was a few feet away at best when the sliding squeak of metal bolts unlatched and the wooden door was pulled back. Heather had obviously heard it too and she was walking past the Italian in a casual gait like the man in the apartment was summoning her with treats. Instinct told the Italian to grab her by the wrist and pull her back, to make sure he was the first one to step toward that door and confront this new stranger. Levi didn’t do that, but he did follow in her shadow like some reversed guardian angel. It was irrational, this feeling he had and he knew it, but then he also knew that the world was full of bastards you couldn’t trust. How ironic it would have been for Levi to realise that he was trying to protect the very person he should have been avoiding…

Umber eyes regarded the poorly dressed man in the doorway when they paused before him. The slacks, the stains, and the generally soiled appearance gave the older gentleman the look of a homeless person, one who’d broken into the apartment, slain the original owner in his sleep and was now trying to live his life. That would probably make for a good book if it proved to be just a gloomy sprouting of Levi’s imagination, but then again, the Vampiro had learned that certain truths could be more bizarre than fiction. Paranoid or not, Levi had decided that he didn’t like the overly friendly man in the doorway who was ushering the young woman inside and giving Levi sceptical glances. The Italian was stood in Heather’s shadow like a possessive Demon, glowering at the mortal-on-mortal contact because he felt excluded from their world. Still, he wasn’t about to just leave either. Something in the air made Levi’s nose crinkle and despite the fact that he was in no way obligated to defend Heather from creepy old men, the Italian was determined to keep a watchful eye and a readied fist as the scenario unfolded.

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

Relief flooded over her when the guy confirmed he head her cat. Or one of the cats the Yakuza gave her to have because apparently two cats were needed and not just one. One was difficult enough for a first time cat owner, two had her on the edge. It wasn't as if they were bad cats or anything. Nothing more than some typical cat like behavior for the barely one year old pair from the same litter. Random jolts of playtime came at all hours of the day (and night), which was still something Hannah was getting used to.

"Thank you." Hannah breathed out, as worry and concern, primarily over her own life subsided. "I might very well die if I had never found him.' Hannah explained, a potential theory which might hold a veiled truth within-not one she wanted to find out about first hand. To most people it might seem like an over dramatic statement of something similar only a crazy cat person (or lady, in this case) might say.

Hannah approached the door, slowly, but not out of caution. She wasn't planning on going inside, if she could help it. Danger stranger was running high in the back of her mind, but the main reason was that this was someone's private home and who knew what she might walk in on? Piles of dirty clothing? A family in the middle of dinner? Something illegal? Hannah couldn't afford to rock the boat with more people, especially those that might be part of something seedy. She had a job to do, which was right behind her. Hannah's knees bent as a hand wrapped around the jamb of the outer door in the hall as her lips parted and she came to a crouch. The guy remained where he was, on the opposite side, eyes solely on Levi now. He didn't seem phased or bothered with Hannah being half way in his threshold it appeared. "Here, kitty, kitty." Hannah began, clicking her tongue at the bottom of her mouth. Nothing seemed to be happening, or she didn't see a cat coming her way. But what could she honestly expect? She had only owned the pair less than a handful of days.

"Amarillo." Hannah called out, elongating all the vowels, as if that would help her any, before she sighed and stood up. "Do you mind if I go in? Maybe we should call the land lord or owner?" Hannah suggested, looking back at Levi to see if he was sill here and he was. She wouldn't have blamed him for leaving, it appeared as if the cat was found, just difficult to get to. "I don't mind." The guy said, eyes on her now as he moved past her. "I'll show you where the bedroom is at." He didn't wait before he moved down a small corridor that turned a sharp corner to an open concept dinning room, kitchen and living room. Hannah took one step inside, paused and looked at Levi. She then looked past him to his door, then her own. "I'm sorry to take up any more of your night, but maybe you could just...hang here for a minute or two?" She wasn't sure she trusted the man in the apartment, or Levi for that matter either, but she knew that the two weren't connected in any way, so there appeared to be some safety and ease in that piece of information. He wasn't going to help the guy, but that didn't mean he was going to help her either. "Two more minutes tops. Promise." She said as Hannah made her way into the hallway and followed after the guy in pursuit of her cat. Or what might be her cat. God, she hoped it was.

[Levi DAmico]

Their first lead on the stray cat had come from a man that smelt of Cheetos and looked like he’d forgotten how to turn on a faucet, never mind the washing machine. Ordinarily, the sight and sound of such a guy would be enough to make the Vampiro grimace and glare, but when you coupled that with a shady demeanour and the inclusion of some damsel in distress, well, it was enough to put Levi into full attack mode. The Vampiro’s umber gaze remained firmly attached to the man, and every muscle in Levi’s body felt tensed and poised like a cobra ready to strike. Still, he wasn’t as susceptible as a snake, who could be taunted into an attack by the wave of a hand. Even when the man invited Heather to come play find the pussy with him in his bedroom, Levi stood very still and very quiet just beyond the doorway. And perhaps that gave everyone else the impression that the Italian was detached from the situation for a moment or two because he neither received an invitation from the apartment’s resident nor the lady with the missing cat. Well, if he was feeling like being an *** about this whole situation he could have left her to her fate – he certainly had enough to get done tonight without the derail – but then the air changed again.

Suddenly Heather seemed to remember there was a rather large shadow looming over her and she turned, stealing Levi’s hardened glare from Mr Cheetos. Those umber orbs hadn’t softened much, not at first, but when she was basically pleading at him with those big blue eyes, he supposed he had little to no choice in the matter. He could spare her two more minutes and maybe Levi’s instincts would prove their worth and that guy would try something incredibly stupid, giving the angry Italian someone to punch. He did enjoy punching people – especially when it came with justification. Levi didn’t need to play the big hero in any circumstance because he really wasn’t that kind of a guy. He wasn’t even your typical anti-hero – the protagonist who lacked the basic hero principles such as courage or morality. No. If Levi could be considered anything in story-book terms, he was probably closer to being the villain, or representing the antagonist – that which stood in opposition to the main protagonist, the obstacle to be overcome before happy endings could ensue. Sure, the Italian could occasionally perform a charitable act, but then, some diseases could stave off some other, worse diseases. That didn’t make them desired, and it certainly didn’t make Levi one of the good guys either. He was totally fine with that.

“Two more minutes,” Levi grumbled at her, and then those sharp eyes were on the guy again because the next words were certainly a threat he should consider. “Don’t make me come in after yous two.”

Of course he wasn’t going in himself – that wouldn’t be wise. Forgetting the fact that it would probably kill him if he attempted to enter a private abode uninvited, it was just good sense to wait outside. If anything should happen inside the apartment, it would have happened to the both of them, whereas if Levi was waiting outside the door like a good guard dog, he could easily come in and play good attack dog. It really was quite fortunate that he was a Shadow and could do shady things like bypass that supernaturally enchantment that restricted Vampiri from breaking into private residences.

[Hannah Lynn (DELETED 8242)]

Her left lateral incisor paired with the same side cuspid bit down on her lower lip to keep from laughing at Levi's...threat? Was that what it was? It sort of reminded her of her dad the one time she brought home a guy from school. Door had to remain open and there better not be too long of periods of silence. Hannah's eyes swept over Levi's body again, but remained on his face as she tried to gauge his age. No where near her dad, obviously, but her mind couldn't help but wonder just what Levi would do if he did have to come in here after them? There was a splash of pink that danced across her cheek bones before Hannah abruptly turned on her heel, hoping to avoid him seeing her flush.

“In here.” The guy said as Hannah passed door number two, the first having been a bathroom. He made no move to enter into the room, just opened the closed door as he held an extended hand in the direction and waited for her to enter. She only nodded and circled back, before stopping and smiling at him. “Thank you.” She entered, then moved around the bed, so she could glance up every few seconds to see where the guy was in conjunction to her. “Amarillo.” Hannah patted the carpeted ground once her knees were on it, not yet looking under the bed. What would she find other than the cat? Stashes of porn? Maybe, he looked the sort, which was why Hannah asked Levi to stay, and kept the bed between the two of them. “Here, kitty, kitty.” Hannah bobbed her head along side the bed and was relieved to find nothing under the bed other than a sock, a candy bar wrapper and...a pair of glowing eyes glaring back at her. “He is there.” She confirmed, while the woman looked back up and over at the guy. “I don't suppose you have any cat treats, some milk or...” Hannah looked at him and he shrugged. “I got milk.” He said before disappearing and making some rattling noises in the kitchen.

Hannah would continue to coax the cat out unsuccessfully, while the stranger returned, holding out a mug of milk that filled the glass about a quarter of the way. “Thanks.” She said, eyes returning to the door way where she expected him to return to. Only he didn't. He just took a few steps back and began engaging her in conversation. “I've not seen you before. You're new?” He asked, Hannah just nodding her head as she bent back down to call for the cat, making a small clicking noise with her tongue. “I'm Bobby.” He said, staring down at her. “Nice to meet you, Bobby. My cat though...” Hannah wasn't here for small talk, or any kind of talk, because she only cared about the guy that was outside the apartment, doing the job, relaying whatever information the Yakuza wanted from her and being on her way. Friends weren't something she was looking for. She had those at home. “What's your name?”

“Got him!” Hannah bounced up, leaving the mug where it was once her other arm secured the cat between it and her chest. “Thank you so much.” Hannah said as she inched around Bobby and around the bed, the guy not leaving much room for her to walk past, so they did bump shoulders, much to Hannah's dislike. “I'll see you around.” Hannah said once she was through the bed and Bobby maze and nearing the door. “Do you want to go to dinner or hang out sometime?” Bobby followed after her, not letting her get away so easily, but not touching her. Instead, his arm came out and blocked her and the cat's departure of the room. “Oh, no. I'm not...I don't date.” Everyone dated, and she knew it and it sounded stupid to say. “Men.” Hannah blurted out before she bobbed under the arm of Bobby and made her way to the door. “******* lesbians.” The guy said after punching the door frame, then stormed after her, only to slam the door shut after Hannah and her cat were both out. The lock went through the chain, and he could be heard mumbling on derogatory comments about how he could change her mind with all his apparent god given abilities if given the chance.

“Thank you. For staying.” Hannah smiled at Levi before she stroked the ball of fluff and glanced towards his door. “Levi, was it?” She was playing the slightly dense neighbor, but it might leave more opportunities to engage with Levi, rather than playing the completely independent, self-sufficient individual she actually was. “I've probably taken up a lot of your valuable time tonight...but if I can ever repay the favor. Maybe a cup of sugar, or milk, or helping with your own cat fiasco, I'd be happy to help.” She smiled up at him, her bright blue eyes staring up at him with much appreciation as they stood in the neighbor's doorway. "Or just stop by for whatever." She said before moving towards her apartment, indicating that maybe, just maybe, Hannah did date men. If they were the right sorts.

[Levi DAmico]

The Italian set himself a comfortable spot opposite the front door of the apartment. He’d made sure that Mr Cheetos wouldn’t close the door on him, leaving it wide open so that the sounds could channel straight through. It wasn’t like he couldn’t kick that door in or listen through the wood, but, it was probably better to pretend he had normal mortal abilities. Given enough strength and a bit of experience, kicking a door through was a fairly painless task. One well-placed and strong boot just beneath where the lock is mounted and that door would swing back like it was made of tissue paper. Levi hadn’t always been a capo, after all. He’d had to work his way up the ranks just like everyone else, which involved a lot of the menial, shady crap that the Mafia are actually famous for. Truth be told, Levi was a gifted thug. He knew how to hurt people, he enjoyed hurting people, and had always been physically fit – if you discounted the booze and the cigarettes. Those habits actually became more influential in his life the further he climbed the ladder, becoming a coping method of sorts. When the Italian was stressed, he leaned on those cruxes, because beating someone upside the head wasn’t as socially acceptable when you were a somebody.

Soldiers could get away with that ******** because they were dumb apes, really. It was expected of them to think with their fists, and when they couldn’t get away with it, they were regarded as cannon fodder, and were therefore replaceable. A capo was supposed to be more disciplined than that. He was playing on a higher level, one that involved a fair degree of mind games and politics. They were the chess players, not the pawns. A capo had to be patient and think about the long run, this meant a lot of paying attention, being observant, waiting for the opportune moments to strike and knowing when to hold back or make sacrifices. Because this was not about living day-to-day anymore, taking each second as it came, but strategizing the next couple of years in advance. It was hard work, even for a man as intelligent and highly capable as Levi. The environment was always changing, people were transferring their loyalties to the “next big thing”, the world was evolving into a veritable battle field, and the value of resources was ever-shifting. Having an eye for trends helped shape a strategy of resolution, a plan of extortion, and Levi quickly found that he was as much a gifted strategist as he ever was a thug.

Old habits tend to die the hardest, however. As difficult as it is to kick a nicotine addiction or maybe something a bit stronger, it was just as hard to step away from that bestial urge to destroy. Levi really couldn’t help himself, he was a product of rage and found nothing made him feel more satisfied or powerful than when he was tearing people to pieces. Literally. Destroying someone’s reputation with a well inserted lie, or, incriminating the competition to get them taken off the market just wasn’t as thrilling as ripping some poor sod’s eyes from their sockets, removing his teeth, his finger nails, or breaking every single ******* bone in a pleasing crunch and snap that mirrored a kid munching cereal. It was basic nourishment to his malevolent soul, and what was perhaps, more disturbing, was the fact that Levi could kill and not feel a damn thing too. Pulling the trigger detached him from that intimate pleasure of taking someone’s life away with his bare hands. Not that a firefight didn’t have its fun, but, Levi felt like he needed that distance. He had to step away from that urge to slaughter mindlessly with teeth and claws, and begin to treat each bullet like currency. It had to become colder, less about the passion and more about the job.

So what did that mean for his leisure time? Frankly, Levi didn’t have a lot in the way of time for himself and apparently, when those rare moments came, he stood in hallways helping his neighbours search for lost cats. They weren’t even his neighbours, not technically, and he couldn’t exactly figure out why he was helping. In the end, maybe it was all about the cat – Levi had always been fond of felines, big or small. He’d never had pets growing up, never really cared to, not until recently, and the reasons for this sudden change was probably just as Shiro had called it. The Japanese man had looked at Levi like he’d gone mad when the burly Italian came in the office one day carrying a kitten. Shiro had accused Levi of filling the hole in his heart with some other tempestuous beast, and Levi had just gone quiet after that. He’d never denied it, despite how shitty and pathetic it made him feel, but it was probably better he adopted a cat to fill the hole in his heart than to go around putting holes in other people’s. There was definitely a few people on Levi’s list that deserved a whole ******* clip thudding through their chest cavities, but, he reminded himself that he was a capo after all – politics still needed to be played.

Sharp ears heard every word uttered in Mr Cheetos’ apartment, positioned the location of every footstep, and mapped the scenario in his mind as it played out. Heather was focused on calling Amarillo out from under the bed while the cat seemed to be none too happy about all these people surrounding him. Mr Cheetos, who quickly revealed himself as Bobby, was in the process of building up his courage to ask the lady out by making small-talk. Or, maybe it was just less stupid than that and what Bobby Cheetos was actually doing was scoping the lady out. Levi might have performed a similar strategy on a target if he needed information, but there was an art to being subtle that this guy just… lacked. The Italian found it amusing when Heather dropped the L bomb on him and yet a little less amusing when the male took his frustrations out on the wall behind Heather’s head. Nevertheless, Levi didn’t even flinch. Umber eyes watched Heather carrying her cat out of the apartment with apathy, even when that door was slammed behind her. His only thoughts were ones of surprise, that Heather had actually managed to walk out of there with all her limbs still attached, but maybe Bobby was a little more patient than that. The man was still pacing inside his apartment, cursing her name and his bad lack to come across a lesbian, after all, so maybe Heather would encounter Bobby again sometime soon.

Shrugging off the assumptions, deciding he didn’t care any longer about what happened to her, Levi stepped away from the wall and greeted Amarillo with a scratch behind the ears. Animals tended not to like Levi, sensing that predatory vibe in him, but, cats seemed almost understanding. Amarillo was feeling better about being away from too many people, but, he probably would have preferred to be somewhere dark. Levi regarded the feline for probably another half a second before he looked to Heather, to big blue eyes. She was offering him gratitude, but he didn’t feel particularly up to accepting it. He hadn’t really done a damn thing other than accompany her, and you didn’t have to know Levi very well to recognise that he wasn’t great company. The laconic Italian nodded his head when she went to confirm his name and then arched a brow at her attempt to chatter at him. Obviously she was relieved to get her cat back, and maybe she thought she owed him or something, because she was almost desperate to balance the chips, settle her debt with various neighbourly favours. Heather was moving toward her door though, her focus still on him, and Levi was frowning at her, puzzled. She was either trying to be polite and get the **** away from him or she was hinting at something that just washed right over his head. Levi wasn’t particularly good with these kinds of normal Human interactions, but he could respond with something that might alleviate some of the confusion here.

“Grazie… but, that’s probably not likely,” he offered in a flat tone. “I’m barely living here. Just stop by from time to time. So don’t worry about it. Consider it my… good deed for the day or something.”

At that, he gave her a light smile, something to part on that wasn’t completely hostile or entirely dismissive, and then turned his back to return to the apartment. No doubt Bester was making sawdust out of the ******* kitchen by now…